


The Last Six Years

by ab2fsycho



Series: I'm the Chip You're the Dip [3]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: A little bit of blood, AU after society of the blind eye, M/M, Sexual Content, adding underage because technically they are fifteen when they get serious, at least it ends happily, bone breakage, but they are teenagers when doing the thing, i am not sorry and the OP has all my gratitude, i figured you guess that but wanted to make sure, just in case, my head ran the frick away with it, sexual content will occur, shippy thing goes in shippy thing comes out, so people may not see it as an issue but i figured i'd tag anyway, some implications of death and violence, starts off not shippy, technically bill has no age, then shippy things happen, this is an idea someone posted on tumblr, this is the sad fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:32:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 38,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2571647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab2fsycho/pseuds/ab2fsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After disbanding the Society of the Blind Eye, Mabel and Dipper meet a kid who simply cannot recall who he is. He thinks his name is Bill, but there's no record of his existing anywhere in Gravity Falls. Despite Dipper's suspicions and fears, he ends up befriending Bill over the course of six years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And now, the sad fic. I will not apologize for this one, but I do have someone to thank for this.
> 
> http://fluffywheat.tumblr.com/post/101217935580/twofacedpsycho-fluffywheat-if-i-had-the
> 
> This is the post where I received the idea and permission from tumblr user fluffywheat. fluffywheat, if you're on here, thank you for the permission and I'm looking forward to writing more.
> 
> I'm aware that this first chapter is kind of weak, but there is more to come that will hopefully be better written.

It all began with a simple question, one that the twins simply did not know how to answer.

“Who am I?”

Before Mabel could give another not-so-serious answer to another victim of their memory-erasing spree, Dipper clapped a hand over her mouth. “Come again?”

“I,” the boy murmured, looking embarrassed as he looked down at his ill-fitting clothes, “I don't know who I am. Do you?”

The tint in the boy's dark cheeks indicated just how embarrassed he was to have to ask. He looked to be Mabel's and Dipper's age. Dipper squinted. He did not remember seeing him amongst the society members. As he looked the boy over, he continued not to recognize him. No, he hadn't seen him once.

Yet his memory had clearly been erased. “What do you know?” The boy was still for a moment, then shook his head. “Nothing?” The boy nodded.

Dipper looked to Wendy, Mabel, and Soos, all of whom looked just as confused as he felt. None of them remembered seeing this kid before, but couldn't very well leave him like this. It was Wendy who stepped forward and said, “Wanna try to find someone who does know you?”

The kid nodded, Wendy putting a hand on his shoulder and leading him out to speak with the other former society members. The twins and Soos followed, curious. To their astonishment, no one else knew the kid either. No one recognized him or even called him by name. What was his name? No one knew.

“What do we do?” Mabel asked.

Dipper shrugged, holding up his hands. “I have no idea.”

“It's not like he's an adult and can just pick up a new life. He's just a kid,” she observed.

Like them, Dipper thought. Looking over at the boy, who was steadily talking to Wendy and trying desperately to remember any small detail about his identity, Dipper struggled to find a solution. Soos had started seeing the other former members of the society off, trying to keep things running smoothly. Dipper wracked his brain, but eventually gave up. “Maybe we can take him around town and ask anyone else if they know him.”

Mabel agreed. “Is he staying with us?”

Dipper saw no other alternative. “I guess so.” He didn't want to subject a kid suffering from amnesia to Wendy's family and Soos's grandma was slightly creepy. Creepier than Grunkle Stan. Grunkle Stan didn't go around stalking them, treating their lives like sitcoms. The very thought made Dipper check over his shoulder just in case. Nope. No Grunkle Stan. Come to think of it, Stan might not even notice there was another kid in the house. One never knew what Grunkle Stan noticed.

Mabel interrupted his thoughts with, “Guess you gotta clean your side of the room now.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, he's not sleeping with me. And it's about time you took care of that mess of yours.”

Dipper groaned. She had a point, but there was no way in heck he was going to admit that.

On their way back to the shack, Wendy asked the kid, “Do you have an idea of what your name sounded like?” The boy shook his head. She'd been trying to figure out as much as she could about him since they'd encountered him, but had determined excruciatingly little. About all she'd discovered was that he had an odd habit of closing one eye at a time rather than blinking normally, like he wasn't used to having two working eyes.

“Let's name him!” Mabel cried.

“He's not a pet, Mabel,” Dipper corrected.

She hardly noticed. “What about Jeff?”

The kid shook his head. “What's a Jeff?”

“It's a name, silly. We're trying to name you,” Mabel said. “What about Xander. That's an awesome name!”

“No. Doesn't feel right.”

“John?”

“No.”

“Jacob?”

“Nah.”

“Jingleheimer?”

“Really, Mabel?” Dipper murmured irritably.

“Just kidding. Okay,” and she continued listing off names as they made their way home. Wendy and Soos had long gone home and Dipper had managed to kick his dirty clothes into a single pile at the foot of his bed. As predicted, Grunkle Stan hardly noticed there was another person under his roof. While the boys sat on Dipper's bed and Mabel sat on hers, she continued her attempts at naming him. By then, Dipper had cracked open the journal and was reading that rather than paying attention. “Stanley?”

“No.”

“Manfred?”

“No.”

“William.”

The no was not immediate this time. In fact, it didn't come at all. Dipper glanced over at the kid to see him straightening up and tilting his head at the sound of the name, as though it seemed familiar. “Do you recognize it?” Dipper asked.

“It feels . . . close,” he responded.

Mabel pressed, “What about Will? Does that sound right?”

The kid's eyes widened. “That sounds closer.”

Mabel's eyes went wide and Dipper's stomach took a turn he wasn't quite expecting. “What about,” don't say it, he thought at Mabel, though he knew she couldn't hear his thoughts, “Bill?”

The kid looked up. “That sounds right.”

Dipper slammed the journal shut at that, intrinsically knowing that he was not going to get a lick of sleep that night.

The following day Dipper watched Bill closely the whole time they were going through town, looking and praying someone knew the kid and that every theory in his head was wrong. But each time someone shook their head, claiming to have never seen the kid before, the theories intensified. Mabel was a little more optimistic, saying it couldn't possibly be Bill Cipher walking around with them. After all, he needed a vessel and clearly no one knew who this individual was. He couldn't have possibly left Gravity Falls to possess someone else either. There was just no way Bill was . . . Bill.

That didn't stop Dipper from suspecting. And after a few days of speaking to everyone in town, tourists included, he realized there wasn't a single person to claim the kid. Not even the police knew who he was, or Toby Determined for that matter. Not even the former society members. Granted that wasn't so surprising as the authorities. Dipper had thought for certain that they might have a clue. There weren't even reports of a missing child.

By the end of the week, the twins and Bill had come up with nothing. Sitting at the kitchen table Saturday morning, Grunkle Stan served them breakfast and for the first time commented, “I see there has been an additional member of this household for a while, now.”

“Yeah,” Mabel sighed, head hitting the table. “He may or may not be a fictional person.”

“Explain,” Grunkle Stan said, squinting at them. Bill stayed quiet and just listened, as he tended to do.

“Something happened,” Dipper began, pointing to Bill, “he has amnesia,” he made a sweeping gesture, “and nobody in town knows who he is. At all.”

“Do you have any ideas Grunkle Stan? Maybe he came in with some tourists?” Mabel asked.

“I wouldn't know. When I look at tourists, all I see is money.”

Bill let out a quick chuckle that made Dipper shiver and stare at him. “Gold, right? You see gold?”

Mabel looked up, confused but suspicious. Not as suspicious as Dipper, however. Then Grunkle Stan guffawed, setting the hot pan down on the table unintentionally. “Yeah kid. I like you.” Proceeding to serve up food to the three children, Grunkle Stan offered, “Look, you earn your keep here and I don't care how long you stay. The police here aren't worth a crap. I should know, I've been lying on my taxes for years. So if you expect them to help you, I got bad news for you.”

“How do I earn . . . my keep?” Bill asked.

“Just come work in the shop with the others. It's not hard. And don't listen to any of Mabel's ideas about how to run a company.”

“Hey!” Mabel whined. “I thought we settled that.”

“Yeah, and you got the video to prove it. I'm not talking about it.” Sitting down, Grunkle Stan asked, “Whataya say, kid?” Without a moment's hesitation, Bill nodded. 

And so began Bill's long-term stay with the Pines family.


	2. Chapter 2

Bill had a difficult time with many things that Dipper hadn't thought would be difficult. One such difficulty was drinking. Yes. Drinking. Drinking was apparently something the kid had not yet mastered.

Dipper discovered this when he, Mabel, and Bill sat down with cans of soda. Bill had cracked open the can fine, but then he held the can above his head and started pouring the drink into his mouth, nose, and eyes. “Oh my God!” Dipper and Mabel screamed at once as Bill started choking. Setting the drink down, Dipper helped Bill breathe properly again as Mabel cleaned up the mess and went to get straws.

“You okay, man?” Dipper asked as Bill's eyes finally stopped watering and his face was clear of the soda.

“I thought I was doing it right.”

Dipper couldn't help but chuckle. “No, not quite.” Mabel appeared with straws, sliding one into each soda can. Bill flicked his with his fingers, like he'd never seen one before. At this point, Dipper would believe him if he said he hadn't. “Watch,” he said before demonstrating how to use the straw for Bill.

Bill nodded, then proceeded to do the same. “There. He's got it,” Mabel said in relief.

Moments later, Bill hadn't released the straw and he face was turning blue. “Bill, breathe!” they practically shouted. 

That was the day they almost drowned Bill with a sip of soda. Stranger still was the day he revealed that he was practically an expert on math and science. He wasn't just better at it than Dipper, he was phenomenal at it.

He was forming complex tables when Grunkle Stan walked by and said, “Hey kid, whataya think about turning into an exhibit? Little Einstein, solving all the world's mathematical problems! Pictures taken by tourists, money in the pocket. How does that sound?” There were dollar signs in his eyes by the time he quieted down.

The boy just shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” Bill said.

That had worked out fine, Grunkle Stan counting the money he earned off selling that schtick. Then several tourists returned later to reveal that the pictures they'd taken of Bill were all either blank, full of anomalies, or in some cases scorched. While it inconvenienced the customers, it deterred neither Grunkle Stan nor Bill from continuing as they were. It did, however, concern Mabel and Dipper.

The one thing Mabel specifically praised of Bill was how cleanly he was. It kind of disturbed Dipper to walk in and catch Bill cleaning his side of their room. Well, it was technically both Dipper's and Bill's side of the room, now. They took turns sleeping on the bed or in a sleeping bag. Still, Dipper was a little irked by Bill's need to keep things tidy. They'd been fine before. Dipper had organized everything into piles and known where everything was until Bill took over.

Perhaps what startled Dipper most was when he woke up in the middle of the night and found Bill upright and awake, gaze shifting between the twins as they slept. One night when this happened, Dipper asked, “What's wrong?”

“Oh,” Bill whispered, “nothing. I just . . . sometimes I can't sleep. At all. Not dark enough, or too dark. I can't really tell why.”

It was a night where it was not dark enough. The moon was shining brightly through their window, distracting even Dipper's tired eyes. Sitting up as well, he turned to Bill, “Does this happen often?”

Bill hesitated before nodded. “Sleeping just feels weird. I don't really know why.”

Dipper didn't either. Sleeping always helped him feel charged and ready for another day. He couldn't fathom not sleeping. That was a lie. He actually could. Not sleeping was downright painful and detrimental to his mental faculties. “You never act sleep deprived,” he pointed out to Bill.

Bill shrugged. “I never feel it. It's just not . . . encoded in me, I guess.” The alarms in Dipper's mind started stirring, not quite ringing but he sensed that they could at any moment. He was still very mistrustful of Bill. It still bothered him how familiar he was and how his vernacular tended to match a certain demon. But it made no sense for Bill to be that Bill. Not to Dipper, at least. Then Bill looked at him, squinting and whispering, “I swear I knew you two before this.”

The hairs on Dipper's body stood on end, but he tried not to show how disconcerted he felt. “Can you,” he didn't want to ask but needed to know, “can you tell how you felt?”

Bill thought about it for a moment, staring at his hands as if they weren't his own. If Dipper's theory was at all true, they were not his own. Then Bill said, “I think . . . I liked you. I'm not sure. I think you both were important, somehow.” There was a long pause before he shook his head. “That's about it.”

Dipper nodded. He just wished he had confirmation on who this Bill was. He wished someone, anyone, recognized him. Even if just a little bit.

Because he was starting to like Bill too, and he didn't want things to turn out the way he feared.

:)

One day when Dipper was sick, Mabel took over and showed Bill how to boil soup for him. He wasn't too bad at taking care of Dipper, which was a challenge in and of itself considering Dipper liked to think himself independent most days. Granted, Bill almost burned the soup because he liked watching the broth bubble.

“You can turn the stove off now,” she told him.

But he just kept staring at the broth boiling over the side and uttering, “This is cool.”

She'd had to intervene before it bubbled in his face and burned him. “Okay, science guy. It's not that cool.”

He scoffed at that. “Everything is cool when you feel like you're seeing it for the first time.” With that, she could not argue. Pouring the soup into a bowl, she almost screamed and dropped the pot when he dipped his finger into the steaming soup and quietly whimpered, “Ouch!”

“Bill, it's hot! You know that!” Setting everything aside, she pulled him to the sink and held his finger under running cold water before scouring the cabinets for burn cream to soothe the injury. When she finally found and applied the cream, she asked, “What made you do that, silly?”

“Pain is hilarious,” he uttered almost inaudibly.

She froze and stared at him for a moment, a hint of fear seeping into her. Right then, she couldn't blame Dipper for worrying over Bill's identity. Some of the things Bill said were just too spooky to be coincidence. Shaking her head, though, she tried not to let this change anything. This Bill was different. This Bill had no memory. Of anything. Treating him poorly for something he could not recall was foolish, especially since there was no hard proof that he was in fact Bill Cipher. Readying the soup for Dipper, she told him, “I wouldn't say that in front of Dipper.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because,” oh God, she hated lying, but she had to, “he doesn't find pain funny. He's kinda afraid of it.” It wasn't that big a lie, but it was still dodging the truth. However, Bill seemed to accept it at face value.

Letting Dipper rest, Mabel showed Bill how to crochet. She was hesitant to give him knitting needles because he might find some other use for the sharp points. He seemed to enjoy crocheting, though. It was simple, quick, and his loops were rather decent. Not too tight, not too loose, always just right. He was making scarves about as well as her by the time Dipper started perking up and feeling well. 

After inspecting Dipper for anymore signs of illness, Bill ran downstairs to help Grunkle Stan with something and left the twins alone. Dipper asked, “Has he been acting any weirder?”

Mabel shook her head. “Nope. Just plain old Bill for now.”

Dipper sighed. “I don't want him to turn out to be Bill Cipher.”

Mabel rocked back and forth on her heels, hands clasped behind her back. “But what if he does?”

Dipper didn't answer right away. After a few minutes of quiet he said, “I don't know.”

“Well he can't remember anything. It's not like he wants to hurt us right now.”

Dipper squinted at his sister. “Are you . . . defending Bill Cipher?”

“No, I'm defending Bill. He's kinda cool, you know? And nice?”

“Nice. Yeah,” Dipper muttered. “He is cool. I do . . . I do like him.”

“Then he's a friend. So we treat him like a friend,” she said.

There was a long pause before Dipper nodded. “Yeah. We do.”

:)

Summer dragged on and Bill eventually became just another member of the shack. Wendy and Soos were even used to him by the time Dipper and Mabel were getting ready to leave. Going on one last exploration through the woods, Dipper wasn't too surprised to have Bill following him around. Bill often got too much energy and Mabel was more likely to be found knitting or playing with Waddles and friends than running around and adventuring like Dipper. 

Despite everything, Dipper actually enjoyed the company. Bill had been rather fun to adventure with since he'd gotten used to him. It was wonderful, really. Dipper finally had someone willing to listen to his wild stories of what he'd found in Gravity Falls, someone to chase mysteries with without having to drag them away from other companions. Dipper finally had a friend. Mabel had found friends early compared to him, but now he finally had someone.

And he was actually sad to have to leave him.

“Shouldn't I go to school too?” Bill asked, hanging upside down from a tree branch.

“Technically yes. I think Grunkle Stan wants to home school you though.” The prospect would have terrified Dipper if Bill weren't already worlds ahead of Dipper and Mabel schooling-wise. He really was entirely too smart for his perceived age. But Grunkle Stan had taken such a liking to him, and Bill had grown incredibly fond of the shack. Dipper guessed he'd be happier working at the shack than attending public school anyway.

“Can't you home school with me?” Bill asked.

That was the hard part: Bill didn't want Mabel and Dipper to leave. On some level, Dipper didn't feel right leaving him either. God only knew what Grunkle Stan and Bill might get into. At least Dipper could rely on Soos and Wendy to make sure the two didn't hurt themselves too horribly. “I'm afraid I have to go back.”

Bill dropped down from the tree, flipping so he landed on his feet. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he came to sit beside Dipper. They sat by a stream, watching the water flow by. What Bill said next startled him. “Thank you.”

Dipper blinked. “For what?”

“It occurred to me a while back that you didn't have to help me. You could have sent me off with someone else. But . . . I'm glad I stayed with you guys. You've been really nice to me.”

Dipper couldn't help but smile. “Glad to have you, man.”

“I'll miss you,” Bill whispered.

He hadn't expected that either. Wrapping an arm around Bill's shoulders, Dipper squeezed him and said, “I'll miss you too.” Bill's smile was radiant. “And you know,” Dipper added, “you can always call me.”

“On the phone?” Bill asked. Dipper nodded. “That'll take some getting used to.” Because Bill hadn't had many opportunities to use the phone. Then Bill blinked and uttered, “It won't be quite the same.”

“No,” Dipper said with a sigh. “It won't.”

The night before Mabel and Dipper were scheduled to leave, Bill crawled into bed and actually tried to sleep with Dipper. Though he wanted to protest, Dipper didn't. He accepted the company of his strange friend without question.


	3. Chapter 3

Bill called at least once a week, which was reassuring. Dipper had begun to wonder if leaving him with Grunkle Stan was the wisest of decisions. He didn't want to think about the trouble that might ensue with the two of them plotting and only Soos to keep an eye on them. Jail was never out of the question where Grunkle Stan was concerned.

The first few months back passed by quickly as Dipper kept in touch with Bill. Every now and then Mabel would abscond with the phone to talk about arts and crafts types of things. When he finally got the phone back, Bill would tell Dipper what exciting things he'd run into. It was refreshing, having someone at Gravity Falls willing to continue the adventuring without him and keep him up to date. He was looking forward to being the one leading the excursions again, but thinking of how long it would be before that happened succeeded in make him a little upset. He was surprised at just how badly he wanted to return to the Mystery Shack.

Everything was normal until one phone call. Dipper hadn't expected it at all. It wasn't even on one of the days Bill normally called, or close to the normal time. Dipper answered anyway. “Bill?” he asked tiredly. What time even was it? Five something in the morning? Jesus, Bill.

“Dipper!” Dipper was awakened immediately by how panicked Bill sounded. “You gotta help me! I'm on fire!”

Dipper's heart skipped a beat. “You should be calling the hospital, not me! Hang up now!”

“No wait!” He heard the sound of running water on the other end, and a curse under Bill's breath. “It's not normal fire,” the kid whimpered. He sounded utterly frightened.

“Where's Grunkle Stan?”

“Asleep in the chair. I didn't want to wake him and he . . . I just,” he sounded like he was about to cry, “I just don't think the old man would respond to supernatural flames very well.” He had a point there.

Dipper's heart sank to the floor with his stomach. No. No no no this couldn't . . . .

Gritting his teeth, he took several deep breaths before asking, “What color is the fire?”

Bill sniffed as he answered, “Blue.”

Oh God, Dipper thought. He'd hoped that wasn't the case. He felt slightly sick at the idea. His Bill was indeed Bill Cipher. This was too much of a coincidence for the two not to be connected. But if his powers were awakening . . . and he wasn't remembering . . . there was hope here yet. Well, hope for Dipper's and Mabel's lives, that is. “Where is the fire located?” Dipper asked. He had to at least talk the kid through it, then maybe he could figure out what caused this revelation.

“Just my hands.” It was unusual, disconcerting even, realizing that he was comforting none other than Bill Cipher. Bill Cipher, the demon who'd almost destroyed them and the journal on more than one occasion. “I tried putting them out with water, but it's not doing anything.” So strange. Frightening, but not as terrifying as Dipper had thought it would be.

“How long have they been on fire?” he asked.

“I don't know. Maybe ten minutes?” Dipper tried to think of what to ask next. Bill asked, “What did I do wrong? I've been careful this whole time. I haven't even touched the supernatural. I've only been watching—ohmYGOD!” 

Dipper heard a bang on the other end. “Bill? Bill!” he called into the phone.

“I'm on fire!”

“Yeah, I got that!”

“No, my whole body! It's on fire! Oh God, what do I do whatdoIdo _whatdoIdo_ —?!”

“Bill, listen to be! Be quiet and listen!” He could still hear Bill's frantic breathing, but at the very least he was quiet. “Does it hurt?” He heard nothing. “If you're shaking your head, remember I can't see you.”

“It doesn't hurt,” Bill uttered so lowly Dipper almost couldn't hear him.

“Okay, that's a plus. Do you remember what you were doing when it first started?”

“Uh,” Bill pondered aloud, “I was . . . I woke up. I came downstairs to . . . I don't know, get water. Then I don't know what happened. My hands just caught fire, and I panicked and—”

“Wait wait! Don't panic now. Just tell me,” he fumbled for words, “what were you thinking when it happened?”

“Like, thoughts? I'm not sure. I think I was remembering the dream.”

That didn't bode well. “What did you dream about?”

“Everything was black and white, and I could control everything. Then these . . . these people in red robes, that was the only color I could see. They came out of no where and they just,” Dipper could hear Bill biting his lip to keep from freaking out again.

Dipper's blood was ice by now. He was remembering. He actually was remembering, but he didn't realize it. Yet. Oh God, he was going to have to tell him. No, he couldn't. He'd kill him.

Would he? Would he really?

No. No, Dipper could not do this. He could not put his faith in Bill Cipher, even if he was his friend. No, not his friend. They weren't friends!

Then he remembered what Mabel had said. Guilt washed over him as he gripped the phone tight. He couldn't abandon Bill. He couldn't just leave him like this. He didn't know any better right now. “Bill?” he asked.

“Yeah?” His voice was so small. It sounded nothing like the demon Dipper knew. 

Oh God, he was so stupid. He was so stupid for doing this. “Okay, what we're gonna do is some breathing exercises. We're gonna see if the flames go away if you calm down. Okay?”

Was that a sniffle Dipper heard? “Okay.” It was. Jesus, this was making his chest hurt. He hated this.

“Here's how it's gonna work—”

“Wait, how do you know how to calm down? You're never calm! Do you even know the meaning of the word?” Bill asked frantically.

Dipper paused, then struggled not to laugh. On some level, Bill was right. Dipper really shouldn't be the one to do this. “I don't know, let's find out.” How did Bill make him comfortable again so quickly? He'd address this problem later.

Dipper went through the motions: counting seconds of intake through the nose and counting seconds of outtake through the mouth. Mabel had taught him this exercise, and this was actually his first time using it without her help. After a while of doing this, Bill said, “Wow.”

“What is it?”

“It's down to one hand, now.”

“Awesome!” So it was stress-related. Maybe. “Keep breathing until it's gone.” When the last of the flames vanished, Dipper asked, “Will you let me know if this happens again?”

“Yeah.”

“Remember to breathe when it does. And try to keep in mind what you were thinking of when it happened.”

“Okay.”

By the time they got off the phone, there was no point in going back to sleep. Later that day, when he and Mabel were at lunch, she asked him, “Why were you up so early?”

He picked at the cafeteria food, looking around to make sure no one else was listening to them. He didn't really want anyone to hear him talking about demons and Gravity Falls. “Bill called.”

“Is he okay?”

He hesitated telling her, but he wasn't going to be able to hide it. “He's Bill, Mabel. He's Bill Cipher.”

She looked down at her tray, sighing. Then she asked, “What gave it away?”

Dipper looked at her, face contorting as he took in what she'd said. He honestly felt betrayed. “You knew?” She nodded. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“I don't know if you noticed, but he's unnaturally masochistic.” She tapped her fingertips together. “And . . . he sorta said pain was hilarious. And just . . . it was obvious from the start, bro bro.”

“Mabel,” he lowered his voice, “Grunkle Stan's currently housing a demon because of us. You should've told me sooner.”

“I know, but you liked him so much.” She shrugged, still somber. “He liked you so much.”

“Yeah, he's not even, I don't know, a real person. What's gonna happen when he wakes up?”

“I don't know.” She sighed. “I'm just riding on the hope that he doesn't find out.”

“We need to tell him.”

“Dipper,” she stared at him flatly then, “think about what you're saying. Bill would kill us. You said so yourself, didn't you?” He nodded. “Are you desperate to die or something? And what about Grunkle Stan?”

Dipper huffed. “Yeah, I know. You're right.”

“At the very least, let's wait till we get back to Gravity Falls to do anything.” He agreed. This just meant he had to continue playing therapist (or something) to the demon trapped in human form until then. After a few more moments of silence, Mabel asked, “So what did give it away?”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “His powers. He called me to ask me why his hands were on fire.”

Mabel's eyes widened. “He has powers, but he can't remember. That's good, right?”

“He does remember. In his dreams. He just thinks they're dreams though.”

Another few minutes of quiet. Then Mabel muttered, “We're gonna die.”

Dipper's only response was, “Yep.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Dipper?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I a freak?”

Dipper's answer was immediate. “No. No, you're not a freak.” But in the back of his mind he was screaming, But you're a demon I would very much like to not piss off. Again. He couldn't say that. Not with Bill sounding so pitiful. 

“You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?” Bill asked.

Dipper shook his head, then remembered Bill wasn't there to see him. “No, I'm not.” And he really wasn't. He truly did not think of Bill as a freak. Bill was what he was, and if he knew what he was he wouldn't feel as strange. He'd be angry with Dipper and Mabel, but he wouldn't feel out of place. Instead, he thought he was a human who'd tampered with something he shouldn't have and received powers as a result. “How often did you catch fire or levitate this week?” He'd started levitating randomly a few months before. They learned that was linked to him getting overly excited.

“Didn't levitate. Only caught on fire once.” While that was a good number, Bill still sounded upset.

Dipper sighed, feeling like it was getting more and more difficult not to tell Bill who he was. At the same time, it was getting easier. He didn't want to lose his friend. Dang it, not his friend. Yes, friend. Dipper rubbed his eyes before saying, “Know what? When Mabel and I get back, first thing we're gonna do is give you a hug. Will that prove you're not a freak?”

There was a pause before Bill asked tentatively, “What if I set you on fire?”

“You won't.”

“What if we all start levitating?”

“It'd be a heck of an adventure.”

Another pause. Then a chuckle, and Dipper knew he'd succeeded in making Bill feel better. “Okay,” Bill uttered.

“Good.”

Summer returned, and Mabel and Dipper were packed to go days in advance. True to his word, Dipper and Mabel ran off the bus at Bill and Grunkle Stan. Dipper didn't know how, but all three Pineses managed to wrap themselves around one another with Bill crushed in the middle. Then Soos joined the party and Grunkle Stan had to let go because he thought it was getting weird. While Mabel, Grunkle Stan, and Soos parted though, Bill and Dipper remained. Eyes closed, Dipper heard Mabel run to greet Candy and Grenda but didn't look. He was too busy having the shorter boy squeeze the life out of him.

“Thanks,” Bill whispered.

Dipper smiled. “Anything for you, buddy.”

“I'll remember that when you fall out of a tree.” Which was very likely to happen to Dipper. “And you've gotten too tall. Let's hope I hit a growth spurt while you're here.”

They pulled away then, but not before Dipper whispered, “Or you could just float above me.” 

He was worried he'd insulted Bill by making light of his powers, but Bill surprised him by smiling. It was that wide smile, the one where his eyes sort of squinted and he looked like he had a plan. Rubbing his hands together, it was evident he did have a plan. “Maybe we can learn to control my powers this summer?”

He looked so excited, Dipper couldn't say no.

:)

“I can't tell him,” Dipper admitted to Mabel after a few weeks of being back in Gravity Falls.

Mabel nodded, understanding completely. “Me either.”

It wasn't unreasonable, she thought. Bill hadn't remembered anything else since that first dream, and they'd been working together to understand the way his fire and levitation worked. The levitation he couldn't control, but the fire he was getting a better handle on. At one point he'd set a pine tree on fire and Dipper had seen it as a metaphor so Mabel had to send Dipper upstairs to their room and take over with helping Bill that day, but that was the worst thing that had happened. Well, there was that time he'd almost floated away entirely because he couldn't get his levitating under control. Wendy had managed to lasso him and tie him to a fence. When Dipper and Mabel thought they'd have to explain everything to her, however, she just shrugged off the offer and said, “Keep him on a leash. You don't wanna lose your travel buddy, do you?” She took seeing a kid almost float off into space surprisingly well.

While they didn't keep him on a leash, Bill took to holding one or both of their hands whenever they were outside together. Mabel noticed how Bill tended to prefer holding Dipper's hand immediately, but instead of pointing it out she just backed out of the picture and observed. One time when Dipper was engrossed in a book and they were crocheting downstairs, she asked Bill, “Do you have a crush on Dipper?”

“What are you talking about? I haven't crushed him,” he said as he struggled with black yarn.

“No, silly. Do you _have_ a crush?” After a moment, she realized she would have to explain. “Do you like him?”

“Of course I like him! He's my friend, isn't he? Kinda have to like someone to be their friend.” Bill seemed oblivious to romance, or at least to the terminology surrounding it.

“But do you have strong feelings for him?” Bill stopped working then, squinting at her in confusion. “Like, when you're not with him do you think about being with him?”

“All the time,” Bill answered, then went back to work like that was the end of the conversation. “I think of you too, but I feel like I know him better. Know what I mean?”

Mabel smiled. “I know exactly what you mean.”

:)

They decided to declare the day that marked a year since they met Bill the kid's birthday. He asked if he had one when he realized the twins were thirteen and not twelve, the issue seeming to cause him some distress. He tried hard to be normal, despite Dipper and Mabel telling him that worrying about being normal would only making him more stressed out. He almost had a similar crisis when he realized he didn't have a last name. That was resolved quickly when Soos just said, “You're a Pines now. So it's Pines.” Mabel then declared Bill's full name to be Bill Ramirez Pines, and it ate at the back of Dipper's mind that Bill technically already had a name and they knew that.

But he didn't want to tell him that. Bill was enjoying this way too much. Dipper was enjoying this way too much.

After a small party, which Grunkle Stan hosted surprisingly without complaint, Mabel, Bill, Dipper, and Wendy found themselves up on the roof of the shack. Bill asked, “How old am I now?”

They hadn't really known what age to give Bill since he technically had no age, so they decided to leave that up to him. “How old do you wanna be?” Mabel asked.

“Fifty!” he said enthusiastically.

“Chill, dude. You don't wanna be old too fast, do you?” Wendy pointed out.

“Eh. Guess not. Fifty doesn't feel that old. Feels young.” Bill would say that. Dipper succeeded in not feeling some semblance of anxiety over the observation. “I guess I'll just be you guys's age.”

“Cool. You're a teenager like us,” Wendy said. “Wanna go through proper initiation into teenagerhood?”

“You bet your pretty face, Toots!” Okay, that definitely made Dipper stiffen.

Wendy didn't comment. She just laughed softly and said, “Then you gotta survive a night in the Dusk to Dawn—”

“NO!” both Mabel and Dipper shouted.

“Why not?” Bill asked.

“I did not get us out of there to go back in!” Dipper declared.

“You've already been? No fair! I gotta go now,” Bill said. Then he glanced up at the sky before slowly lowering his gaze to Dipper again, as if something strange had occurred to him. “You . . . got them out of there?”

Mabel covered her mouth and giggled fiendishly. “Yeah, Dusk to Dawn is haunted by two old people ghosts that Dipper had to—”

“Fight off!” Wendy interrupted Mabel when she saw Dipper's face reddening. “He totally fought them off! In a totally manly, axe-wielding way.”

There was a moment of silence before Bill stared at Dipper in awe. He was about to say something when Mabel burst out into a fit of laughter and cried out, “The lamby lamby is manly now?”

“Mabel NO!” Dipper screamed, and that was the end of that conversation before Dipper left the building.

:)

That night, while Mabel slept, Bill and Dipper sat up whispering to each other about the day's events. Bill decided not to inquire about this so-called lamby lamby thing because Dipper had reacted so poorly to it. He'd just ask Mabel later when Dipper wasn't around to hear the discussion.

It got quiet as they lay in bed next to each other. It was easier to whisper when they were in the same space, and Dipper didn't seem to mind Bill being close to him. Bill liked how warm Dipper was. “Hey Dipper?” Bill asked.

“Yeah?”

Bill felt an unexplainable burning come over his cheeks, but pressed on either way. “I wanna try something. Just go with it, okay?”

Dipper looked confused as well as uneasy, but he nodded anyway. Bill tapped his fingertips together, trying to figure out how best to go about this. He'd seen a couple of Wendy's friends do this while away, and had to ask Soos what it meant. Soos said that sort of thing was reserved for people who really like each other. After Mabel asked him about it a while back, he realized he did like Dipper enough.

Swallowing what he assumed to be nervousness, he pressed his lips to Dipper's briefly before pulling back. Dipper's eyes were wide, the boy completely frozen in place. Bill bit his lip anxiously, waiting for a response. After what felt like an eternity of quiet, Dipper squeaked out, “Why?”

Bill actually wanted to laugh, but exercised restraint. “Just wanted you to know.”

“Know what, exactly?”

Oh good! That meant he wasn't the only one who wasn't quite sure how all this worked. “Know that I had . . . strong feelings for you.”

There was another long pause and Bill could actually see beads of sweat forming on Dipper's temple. “Bill, that's . . . that's for people with a different kind of friendship. Something else entirely.”

“Oh,” Bill uttered. He thought about it for a moment. Then he smiled, having made a decision. “Well, do that to me if you ever want that kind of friendship. I'm good with how things are now.”

Dipper seemed to calm down at that suggestion. Nodding again, Bill and he were silent for the rest of the night.

:)

Dipper saw Bill differently after that. He kept the kiss to himself, and that only made him think about it more often. Somehow, the fact that Bill Cipher had kissed him kept turning over and over in his mind and he just couldn't process it. He coped with it by pretending it didn't happen most days, but when he was alone with a book he caught himself reading the same paragraph anywhere between five and twenty times because the thought kept interrupting his suspension of disbelief. 

It wasn't until he started watching Bill in a new light that he realized the problem he'd had at the beginning of the summer was now an anthill compared to the one he had now.


	5. Chapter 5

Summer sped by and Dipper was glad to put distance between himself and the demon trapped as a human. The events of that upcoming fall and winter paled in comparison to those of the year before. Bill called once a week still, but he'd largely gotten himself under control so there was nothing to report. As another summer neared, the summer of their fourteenth year, Dipper dwelled on many things. And when he dwelled, he started thinking aloud.

“Mabel, we have made a huge mistake,” he said while pacing their room.

“Which mistake are you referring to now?”

“We should have told him. We should have just told him and dealt with the consequences at the beginning of last summer.”

Mabel's brow furrowed. “Okay, what brought you to that conclusion? Why are you just figuring this out now?”

He didn't want to tell her. He didn't want to tell anyone. But he'd been thinking about it for so long, imagining how Bill had looked and how Dipper had been thinking about him more and more. It was inevitable. Mabel usually knew before anyone else what Dipper was thinking, and for once he didn't want her to figure it out at the wrong time and shriek it aloud to the world.

Taking a deep breath, he admitted nervously, “He kissed me.”

Mabel stiffened. “He what?”

“The night of his birthday celebration. He kissed me.” It felt good telling someone. At the same time, he anticipated her reaction.

It was just as mixed as he expected it to be. Her face would switch from one of glee to concern to mirth to terror within seconds. Finally scratching her head and shoving her hair out of her face, she asked, “How exactly . . . am I supposed to react to this?”

“I don't even know! I don't know how to deal with it myself!” Flopping down on his bed, he didn't know how to deal with a lot of things. So much was changing. They were getting ready for high school. Mabel had hit puberty early in the fall, and he was only just now shooting up above her in height. They both had strange thoughts and feelings they didn't even feel comfortable sharing with each other, and their great uncle _still_ had a demon living in his house without his knowing.

A demon Dipper was starting to having feelings for. He didn't even realize he'd wait by the phone an hour in advance to Bill's scheduled phone call until their mom had pointed it out. He grabbed his face, mumbling about how stupid he was over and over. 

When his hands slid off his face, he opened his eyes to see Mabel staring down at him. Exactly how had she moved that fast without being heard? “You're in love.”

“No!”

“You are.”

“No I'm not!”

“If a crush lasts more than a few months, you're in love.”

He sat up to face her. “Don't you understand? I can't be! I can't love him! This is Bill Cipher, Mabel,” he slammed a fist in his hand as if that emphasized his point at all. “This is the same demon who tried to infiltrate Grunkle Stan's mind. The same demon who possessed me. God only knows what he was doing with that society, if he was planning on running it or whatever!” By now he was flapping his arms. “This is so many levels of wrong I can't even count them!”

“And yet you continued to be friends with him,” Mabel said, folding her arms skeptically.

“Ugh!” He flopped back down. Flipping over, he buried his face into his pillow and grumbled, “I don't wanna go back to Gravity Falls.”

“I can here Grunkle Stan telling you to man up all the way from here.”

“You don't get it. Have any of your boyfriends tried to kill you before?” The pause was so short they barely got one breath in before he said, “That was a stupid question.”

“Yeah, you were there. For almost all of the failed summer romances.”

“Almost.”

“Listen, Dip,” she sat down beside him. “I know this is a complicated situation. We've been over that. But maybe, just maybe, acting on your feelings is a good idea for once. Instead of extensive planning, that is. Know what I mean?”

“Which feelings?”

“That's up to you.”

“That doesn't help. Half my brain says tell him and watch him kill us all, and the other half says kiss him back.”

“Does he want you to?”

Dipper sighed. “He said he was fine with us just being friends. But,” he hesitated, “he wanted me to kiss him if I ever felt that way in return.” Mabel was silent for a long time. Tilting his head to the side to see her, he glared when he saw her smiling sheepishly down at him. “What?”

“That's actually really adorable.”

“Dammit, Mabel!” he cried, burying his face in his pillow again before she saw his blush. “I can't go back. I can't do this!”

“If you can handle Wendy rejecting you, you can handle a demon boy! And a cute demon boy at that!” She punched him in the side. “Now let's start packing.”

“We're not leaving for another week.”

“And we're gonna be ready before then! When we get to Gravity Falls, you're either gonna tell Bill the truth or you're gonna tell him the _truth_. Got it?”

Dipper sighed, heart racing. “Mabel, I can't.”

“You said that last year. Now look at you. Can't don't cut it, bro bro.”

“But I really, really can't! If I do . . . tell him the truth and not the _truth_ , what happens when he finds out the bigger truth?”

“We'll cross that bridge if we get there. He's remembered nothing else so far, right?” He didn't answer. “Right?”

Dipper felt defeated. “Right.”

“Then you'll figure it out when we get there. Got it?” Another long pause. “Got it?” she said with a little more force.

“Got it,” he groaned.

“Good! Now let's start packing.”

A week passed after that conversation. On the bus, Dipper couldn't sit still at all. He twitched and fidgeted, staring anywhere and nowhere all at once. He was going to have a heart attack, he was certain of it.

When they finally arrived, Dipper didn't recognize the beanpole standing next to Soos, Wendy, and Grunkle Stan. Well, he almost didn't recognize him. Oh God, why had he thought for one second Bill would stay short and awkward? He should have known he was going to return and he was suddenly going to be out of Dipper's league. It would be like telling Wendy he liked her all over again.

Which was exactly why he wasn't going to say a goddamned thing no matter how much Mabel glowered at him. Great. His sister would be pissed, Bill was hot and also still a very dangerous demon, and Dipper couldn't say anything about any of it in good conscience. Stepping off the bus, Grunkle Stan and Soos took turns shaking his hand (like he was almost an adult, Jesus he didn't feel like it). While Mabel hugged them unabashedly, Bill approached him and did the exact same thing. Dipper's cheeks flushed scarlet as he returned the hug, enjoying it way more than he wanted to. “Thank God! I was afraid you were gonna show up taller than me again!” Bill declared.

Dipper laughed nervously, trying not to whisper under his breath the way he'd done with Wendy so often. So often she'd figured out his crush long before he'd owned up to it. He flustered more at the memory, and was eternally grateful when she distracted him by giving him a hard pat in the back. “Sup, man! You're taller than me now.”

“Ha ha, so is Bill,” he murmured nervously. He couldn't get over it. Was some higher power garnering entertainment from watching him fall for a demon?

“Yeah. Had to get used to that right quick. Ain't he cute?” Wendy said, pinching Bill's cheek. He flapped at her hand comically, and Dipper's chuckle was genuine this time.

“Alright Dipper. Know what time it is?” Grunkle Stan declared as he placed an arm on Dipper's shoulder.

Dipper gave his great uncle an odd look. “What?”

“Time to see if you've got the Pines chest hair.” Dipper cried out as Grunkle Stan pulled his shirt collar down low enough to show off the spreading patch of hair growing on his chest. “Yes! I knew we were related!”

“Grunkle Stan, no!” Dipper screamed, pulling away just to back into Soos.

“Check it, dudes! He's got a five o'clock shadow.”

“Soos, don't help!” Dipper grabbed the bottom of his vest and immediately zipped it all the way up to the top, ducking his chin into it to hide as everyone applauded and laughed. “I'm disowning myself from this family.”

“Yeah. Isn't anyone going to comment on me?” Mabel said, crossing her arms.

“You . . . stopped wearing headbands,” Soos said, scratching the back of his head.

“And your braces are gone,” Bill pointed out.

“I'll give you points for trying,” Mabel said. Then she pulled up her sweater and declared, “I got boobs!”

Grunkle Stan sputtered. “Put that sweater back on and never take it off!”

“Or don't. High five, girlfriend,” Wendy said as Mabel lowered her sweater anyway before slapping the other's hand.

“No,” was all Grunkle Stan said to Wendy.

“Come on!” Wendy defended, holding her hands up. “You guys can celebrate Dip's ascension into manhood, I'ma celebrate Mabel's ascension into womanhood. Speaking of which, Grenda and Candy were on a camping trip with their families. They'll be here tomorrow to do just that with you.”

“Yes!” Mabel said, holding her hands up in the air excitedly.

Once they were all back at the shack, Dipper made his great escape to the roof as he often did when he was overwhelmed. Guzzling cans of soda, he stared up at the starry night. His heart was still racing. His mind was still very much on Bill and how his family had embarrassed him in front of him. Again. It was different now. It was different now that it truly mattered. He didn't want it to matter, but it did. 

He was so caught up in staring at the sky that when he saw a blonde, dark-skinned kid floating up in his field of vision he actually screamed. “Heya!” Bill said happily, hovering in a relaxed position as he looked down at Dipper.

Dipper calmed down, then broke into a smile he couldn't have hidden even if he'd wanted to. “You're flying. And you're controlling it?!”

“Yep! Well,” Bill looked to the side, a hint of worry showing, “kinda. It's hard to get back down.”

Dipper couldn't help it. He felt excited for him. Standing up, he walked to the edge of the roof and asked, “Need some help coming down?”

“That'd be nice.” Flipping forward, Bill held out his hand to Dipper. Dipper took it, feeling how soft it was before pulling Bill down to his level. When Bill's feet touched the rooftop, he let out a pleased sigh. “Cool, huh?”

“Not just cool. Awesome! You didn't even need us,” Dipper uttered, the last realization actually saddening him a bit.

“Eh,” Bill shrugged. “Would've been nice not to have to tie myself to a tree, you know?”

Dipper smirked. “Yeah. I know.” Returning to his seat, Dipper felt his chest tighten as Bill ignored the other chairs and instead sat as close to Dipper's seat as possible. “Soda?” Dipper offered, trying not to let his voice sound shaky as he offered.

“Sure!” Bill said happily. Dipper reached into the cooler to fetch him one. Just as he realized he hadn't handed Bill a straw, the guy cracked open the can and actually drank the Pitt Cola normally. Dipper stared in disbelief. When Bill lowered the can and wiped his mouth, he smiled at Dipper. “Betcha thought I was gonna choke myself again, didn't ya?”

“Yeah, actually.” Dipper felt slightly crushed. It was like Bill didn't even need him anymore. He was learning things on his own. Dipper gathered from the phone calls he was adventuring on his own. He'd grown so much (much more than Dipper and Mabel). He was practically taking care of himself according to Grunkle Stan earlier at dinner. Bill had changed so much.

And despite everything, Dipper felt like he'd stayed the same.

He mentally slapped himself again for forgetting that Bill Ramirez Pines was actually Bill Cipher. Perhaps the fear of not being needed was giving to the fear that Bill was going to realize who he was and leave. Or kill him. Mostly leave. Dammit, Dipper didn't want any of that. He wanted things to stay the same. They wouldn't though, and he was too scared to change with it.

Leaning back in his chair, he returned to staring at the sky. He was startled when Bill leaned his head on Dipper's arm, looking up as well as if trying to see what Dipper was staring at. That hadn't changed at least. That relieved some of Dipper's internal conflict.

“I discovered something,” Bill said, breaking the silence.

“What's that?”

“I can't leave Gravity Falls.”

Dipper stiffened, looking down at Bill. “When'd you learn that?”

Bill sighed guiltily. “Last summer. I left in the middle of the night and tried to follow a bus out. When I got to the border I just . . . bounced back. Like there was . . . an invisible barrier shoving me back.”

Dipper turned to Bill more. “Why'd you try to leave?”

“Why else? I was trying to get to you.” Dipper was torn between unnerved and scared when Bill continued with, “I dreamt the people in the red robes had you tied up and you were going to be hurt. It worried me.”

They were quiet for a while as Dipper pondered. He hesitated, took a deep breath, then asked, “Have the red robes been popping up anymore? In your dreams, I mean?”

Bill shook his head. “No more than normal. That was just . . . a really scary dream.” Dipper thought he was finished talking about it until he said, “And it felt like I was supposed to be hurting you too.”

Dipper didn't feel fear. No, he felt sadness. Why? Because of the way Bill drew yet closer to him, sliding his hand into Dipper's just like he used to when they were outside and he was afraid of floating away. He felt even sadder when he questioned himself. Would Bill be this upset if he told him who he was? Would he cringe at the fact that perhaps he truly was meant to hurt Dipper and the others that day? Or would he just turn on Dipper immediately for lying to him all this time? The uncertainty was what kept him quiet.

For a few seconds. A lump rose in Dipper's throat as he said, “What if,” he began, “you were supposed to hurt us? What if those red robes aren't just nightmares, but memories of the day you came to us?”

Bill looked up at him, face stricken with bewilderment. “Is that what these are? Memories?” Then his eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”

“I,” Dipper fumbled, sighing nervously as his heart pounded. “I,” he started again, pushing past the lump in his throat, “did some research. While I've been away, I've been researching. If . . . if I told you who you were before,” he took a long time to choose his next words carefully, “and I think I have an idea,” he paused again, “would you—?”

“Don't,” Bill interrupted him.

Dipper's insides froze. “What?”

“Don't tell me.” He rested his head on Dipper's arm again. “I don't want to know. Not if I meant to hurt you or Mabel or anyone before.” Dipper had a hard time letting those words sink in. “Pain, while hilarious, is only so satisfying after a while.”

Dipper didn't like the way he said that, but said nothing else. Instead he focused on the way Bill closed his eyes and held Dipper's hand like he were something precious. Lying back, Dipper couldn't stop thinking of how Bill didn't want to know. He didn't want to know anything about his past even though Dipper had offered. He'd rather be here, in the present with Dipper.

So what excuse did Dipper have now for not telling him the truth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this before, but Shacking Up's last couple of paragraphs were missing so go check it out if you haven't already. My apologies. I suck sometimes.


	6. Chapter 6

Summer was difficult for Dipper. He tossed and turned more often than he liked to admit, staring at the ceiling with eyes wide open and nervous. Lying awake at night and thinking about Wendy hadn't been this hard to deal with. For one, Wendy was never sleeping on the floor or bed beside him. For two (was that an expression?), Wendy had never been willing to reciprocate those feelings. God, look at him. Dipper was a mess.

A mess who couldn't decide whether or not to kiss his hot best friend back. He ignored all the other problems that came along with this for the time being. Most of them had been resolved that first night back. Now Dipper's only problem was what the hell was keeping him here instead of allowing him to move forward. It very well could be the part of his mind that resembled a conscience telling him there was no way this would end well. He liked that part of his head. He should listen to it more often. Why didn't he? He wanted to blame Mabel, Bill, somebody, anybody but himself. The truth was he just wasn't a very good listener.

This was especially true in terms of adventuring. Many times when the book actually said not to do something, he wound up doing it instead. He found himself in one such situation now.

“What did you do to it?!” Bill called back to him as the two went running through the woods from a particularly angry and hairy beast.

“I just answered its riddle!” It was a sphinx. Sphinxes spoke in riddles, so he'd answered. “I thought I was right!”

“Apparently it didn't like your answer!” Bill stopped dead in his tracks and Dipper almost ran into him. Then he saw the cliff. Sliding to a stop, Dipper teetered on the edge for a moment and almost vomited at how much of a drop it would be to fall. Bill pulled him back over the edge at first, then wrapped his arms around Dipper's waist. Cheeks flushing, Dipper was about to ask when Bill ordered, “Hold on tight.” 

As the sphinx came crashing through the underbrush, Dipper obeyed. Closing his eyes, he felt the two of them start to lift off the ground. Arms wrapped firmly around Bill's shoulders, Dipper felt himself starting to slip and his eyes shot open. As soon as he realized how fast the two of them were moving up, he uttered an, “Oh God,” and squeezed his eyes shut again before involuntarily wrapping his legs around Bill as well.

Bill started laughing. “Under different circumstances, this would be hilarious!” It clearly already was given how loud Bill's laughing became. Meanwhile Dipper was trying not to fall and also not to think about who it was he was currently clinging to. His stomach started to drop every time it felt like the two of them might start falling and his grip tightened. “Yeesh, who knew you were this heavy?”

“Shut up or I'll throw up.” Miraculously, Bill didn't take this as an idle threat.

After a few minutes of floating, Bill suggested, “Sphinx gave up, I think. Gonna land in a tree just in case.” Dipper gave no reply other than a nod against Bill's chest.

Once they were situated a few strong branches high up in the air, Dipper proceeded to hug the tree trunk instead. Keeping his eyes closed, he could hear Bill still chuckling at him. “Just a little adventuring. Just a little bit of the old times. That's all I wanted,” Dipper mumbled against the bark. “Now look at me. I'm stuck in a deleted scene from _Twilight_. God help me. Satan help me. Someone help me.”

“Calm down. Come on, it's not like I'm gonna let you fall.” There was a pause. “Besides, what's _Twilight_?”

“A, uh,” Dipper's eyes started sliding open as the warmth from Bill having held him on the way up here started seeping from his skin. Was that a pang of sadness he felt? “It's, uh,” he fumbled for words as his gaze slowly slid down. Oh dear God, that was high. They were _really_ high up. “It's a book and movie series. Mabel read 'em all, saw 'em all. It'd be easier to just ask her.” He then shut his eyes again and proceeded to hug the tree even harder.

The moments of quiet were only interrupted by Bill chuckling at him. After a long time spent hiding out in the tree, Bill asked, “Ready to come down?” Dipper nodded against the bark. “Well you gotta open your eyes and let go first.”

“Can't you just, I don't know, grab me and totally _not_ drop me? Lower me down gently?”

Bill snickered again. “I told you I wouldn't drop you already.” Dipper's face burned crimson as he felt Bill's hands on his waist. “You still need to let go.”

Dipper took several deep breaths before his grip on the trunk loosened. Allowing himself to fall into Bill's arms, the other scooped him up in a bridal carry before they started descending. Dipper kept his eyes closed most of the way down, clinging to the teen's shoulders. When a leaf brushed his cheek he made the mistake of peeking. “Oh God!” he cried out, squeezing his eyes shut again.

Then one of Bill's hands reached up to cover his eyes. “Yeesh, kid. Afraid of heights much?”

Dipper huffed. “It's not that! I just keep picturing what's gonna happen if we were to hit the ground suddenly.”

“That's pretty much the fear of heights.”

“Fine, whatever.” When Bill's feet touched the ground, Dipper let out a long sigh of relief. Pulling Bill's hand off his eyes, he looked up to see a stupid grin on the other's face. “You can put me down now, you know.”

“But this is so romantic,” Bill teased.

“Definitely put me down!” Dipper said. Bill obeyed, chuckling as Dipper popped his vest collar up to hide the tint to his cheeks.

They avoided anymore encounters with the strange and paranormal as they proceeded back to the shack. A few hours later, Bill and Mabel were marathoning the _Twilight_ movies. He figured this out when he heard the music coupled with Bill's comment, “This is actually pretty boring. People think this is dramatic?”

“I know, but it's worth it to stare at the actors,” Mabel explained.

“Eh. They're okay.” A few minutes later, Bill was pointing at one iconic scene and saying, “Dipper and I did that today!”

“Are you serious?” Mabel asked excitedly.

Dipper popped his head in long enough to declare, “We were hiding from a sphinx. Not making out in a tree!”

Bill's brow furrowed at the expression until Mabel started singing, “Dipper and Bill sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I—”

“You just made an already weird situation so much weirder, Mabel. Thank you for that.” Dipper left the two giggling in the living room.

:)

On one of the nights Bill couldn't sleep (the moon was too full, making the room way too bright), he wandered the house aimlessly. He almost stepped outside, but elected not to at last minute. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't identify. He thought this was what homesickness felt like, but he had no memory of any other home than Mystery Shack. The only time he didn't feel the sickness gnawing at his insides was when he actually was asleep and dreaming. He felt more at home in the dreams than anywhere else.

Then again, he also didn't have this feeling when he had Dipper with him. That was how he knew his feelings for Dipper were deeper, like Mabel had implied the previous summer. He didn't feel sick around the other teen. He felt just as at home with him as he felt in his dreams.

He pondered asking Dipper to reveal his identity again, but it still felt like an unsavory idea. He was more interested in knowing what Dipper was thinking and feeling. Feeling-wise, the kid was easier to read than anyone else he knew. Thought-wise . . . there were moments where Bill felt like he could actually see what Dipper was thinking and dreaming. More than once, he thought he'd walked in on someone else's dreams. He knew he should probably tell Dipper and Mabel these things, but he didn't want them to think he would ever take advantage of this new ability. He didn't want them to be guarded around him. That felt more important than asking their advice on the subject. Besides, he was getting good at controlling his other powers. Maybe he could teach himself to control this too.

Dipper dreamed often of creatures in the woods, finding them and showcasing them and earning a name for himself. Mabel's dreams were a little fluffier than that, full of boys and sometimes girls. Bill didn't like it when either of them had nightmares. He sometimes didn't even need to know what they were dreaming to know what they were seeing was bad, mostly because Dipper tended to flinch in his sleep and Mabel started meowing. 

Ambling back upstairs, Bill walked in on Dipper having a dream now. Sitting on the sleeping bag by the other boy's bed, he crossed his arms on the mattress and propped his head up on them to watch. Closing his eyes, he started catching flashes of Dipper's dream. He smiled as soon as he saw himself in it. Unfortunately, that was the only glimpse he got of the dream. It turned blurry quickly and was forcefully interrupted by a loud, high-pitched, echoing laugh he thought he should recognize. He didn't, though, and he started quickly feeling sick again as soon as Dipper's hands started twitching and his face started contorting.

Bill elected to try something new. Sliding his hand into one of Dipper's, he tried focusing on the dream again. Instead of trying to bring it up, though, he tried simply cutting it out and replacing it with something else. He thought of something easy, like the forest at night with the wind blowing slightly (ambiance, right?). After a few moments of focusing on replacing that image with whatever Dipper was seeing, the boy stopped twitching and his face relaxed. Breathing out a sigh of relief, the teen's hand tightened on his before whispering, “Bill.”

Bill beamed at him, leaving his hand in Dipper's until the teen let go and roll over however many minutes or hours later. Lying back down, Bill tried going back to sleep again only to catch himself thinking of the boy in the bed beside him. Home. With Dipper, he was home. He didn't feel like a freak as long as he had Dipper Pines.

:)

“You're running out of time, bro bro.”

“I don't think . . . I just can't . . . I—”

“—am making up stupid excuses,” she said, mimicking his voice. Her voice went back to normal when she said, “Summer's almost over. You _know_ he feels the same way about you. _Please_ Dipper. What can it hurt?”

“Our friendship could be ruined. Look at what happened with Robbie and Wendy and all of them years ago.”

“And it worked out! It will work out! No matter what happens, I think Bill will continue caring about you either way.” There was a long pause. “God, you're seriously in love with him.”

“Yeah, I know!” Dipper sighed. “It sucks. It sucks a lot.”

“Yeah. But you know what?” Dipper looked up at her. “You should still totally kiss him and see what happens.” Dipper glared down at the floor again, brow furrowing. “Stop that!”

“What?”

“Making plans! Stop it right now. Here's the only plan you'll need.” She readjusted her seat, face turning serious. “Twenty seconds of courage. Pick your twenty seconds and go for it. Just frickin' go for it and don't hesitate.”

Dipper squinted. “That's from a movie.”

“Yeah, and it works. Choose your twenty seconds wisely. If you don't, I'm just gonna punch you and start the clock myself.”

And she wasn't joking. Their last day in Gravity Falls came and they were packed and ready to go. At the bus station, she was staring at him intently the whole time and gesturing to the figurative watch on her wrist. He shook his head vigorously, unable to act on anything at all whatsoever under that kind of pressure.

The goodbyes were longer this year as the bus was taking longer to show up for some reason. When they saw it rounding the corner, Dipper's first instinct was to pull Bill into a hug. The hug lasted a little longer than he intended and he felt his heart beating rapidly at the contact. They only pulled away when the bus finally pulled to a stop and the doors slid open. Picking up their bags, Mabel and Dipper started walking towards their transport back home only for Dipper to stop and stare at his twin.

They said nothing to each other, Mabel's gaze just as intense as it was a few moments ago. They had an entire conversation with their eyes, Dipper's going wide before Mabel's squinting and Dipper's narrowing before Mabel's pouting. Then Dipper's expression grew determined and Mabel's expression resembled more of an encouraging smile.

“Twenty seconds,” Mabel whispered.

Dipper offered her his bag, which she took with her somewhat freer hand. “Ten,” he whispered back.

Then he turned on his heel and ran back to Bill. Before he could think long enough to question what he was doing, he grabbed Bill by the shoulders and kissed him. Bill's hands immediately found Dipper's waist. The kiss lingered only a moment longer before Dipper pulled back and looked at Bill. Bill's face went from almost blissful to ecstatic in approximately one second. Wendy and Mabel whooped, bringing Dipper out of his ten seconds of courage and drawing him back on the bus. The last words they heard clearly before the doors closed and they were left trying to find good seats were Grunkle Stan's bemused, “Am I the only one who didn't see that coming or something?”

Looking out the window, Dipper's blush crept back into its rightful place as the bus started its departure and he watched the group waving goodbye. Bill wasn't waving so much as dancing with his hands in the air. Surprisingly, he was just as red in the face as Dipper felt.

Suddenly Mabel was hanging off him, startling his gaze away from the window. “Ohmygod, was that so bad?” she asked happily.

Remembering how Bill's lips had felt on his, Dipper grinned stupidly and shook his head. “No. I guess not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the fluffiest sad fic ever. What the hell is going on? When did fluff become the norm for me?


	7. Chapter 7

Conversation wise, there was very little difference. At least, Dipper found few differences than before he'd kissed Bill. The only difference he took into account was the way his heart sped up and leapt every time Bill called him. Their talks felt a little longer, a little more fervent. They were a little more excited to hear the other speak, and Mabel commented on it often. She commented on the tint of Dipper's cheeks, the smile he tried to hide when Bill's name was mentioned in passing, even the way Dipper's words and sentences tended to draw out longer than normal when he was thinking about Bill.

When he wasn't talking about Bill, when he was missing him, Dipper tended to get quieter than typical. He didn't even narrate his thoughts while reading. In fact, he wound up staring at the same paragraph for ten minutes. Mabel also commented on this, saying she'd seen lovesick but nothing quite like this. It became a joke between them, really, about how when Dipper fell he fell hard. It felt right to them, making that assumption. Every time Mabel had fallen for someone, she'd managed to pick herself back up and continue on (barring the Blind Society experience, that is). Mabel expressed the concern that Dipper would not be so fortunate in this situation.

Judging by the way things were going, though, he didn't worry. Every now and then, a feeling nagged at him that this technically wasn't right. He and Bill had a history that stretched back further than Bill recalled, and some nights when Dipper lay awake contemplating it he felt he was taking advantage of his friend. Boyfriend. Yes, boyfriend. He felt wrong. Then he remembered Bill had willingly remained ignorant of his past when Dipper could have easily given him everything. His thoughts drifted that way less and less as he became too focused on what it had been like to kiss him. It had happened so quickly, but it left a lasting impression that made something kick in his stomach every time he thought about it. 

Mabel proposed to the family that they spend the holiday season with Grunkle Stan. When their parents approved, Dipper didn't know who was more excited. Mabel wouldn't stop screaming about taking pictures of her friends as well as Dipper and Bill (which wouldn't end well with the whole blurred picture problem from before), Bill wouldn't stop talking about how he was going to get to see Dipper sooner, and Dipper was beside himself with what to do and how to act. It was only then that he recalled that he hadn't actually been in a relationship before and had no idea how this stuff worked.

He learned swiftly he was not the only one in such a dilemma. One night on the phone with Bill, the other said, “So I've been on the Google lately.”

Dipper snickered at the vernacular. “Oh?”

“Well, I don't exactly know how to buy for a romantic partner. I thought I'd consult some experts.” There was a pause. Dipper was about to ask when Bill said, “ _Cosmo_ is full of experts, right?”

Dipper was about to say no when Mabel's voice popped out of nowhere and she declared, “Absolutely not! Those bitches don't know a role of quarters from a dick.”

“Mabel, what are you doing on the phone?!” Dipper's face went red as she and Bill laughed.

“Making sure you two nerds don't give each other poor advice. What other sources you been lookin' at, Bill?”

Dipper rubbed his face, covering his eyes as Mabel sat on the downstairs phone while he was stuck upstairs in his bed. She steadily ticked off places on the internet Bill should avoid while also telling him where to look for advice. They were just starting to discuss gift ideas when Dipper said, “Can I talk now? Or should I hang up?”

“Goodness gracious, bro bro,” Mabel chuckled out. “You make it sound like you couldn't have chipped in.”

“This isn't my area of expertise.” Which was why he should be glad he had Mabel to consult, but at the moment he just really wanted to talk to Bill.

When she hung up, normal conversation resumed for about five minutes until Bill said, “When you get here, I'll have a surprise for you.”

Dipper flushed for a moment. “Of course you will. There'll be a lot of surprises, it's—”

“No, you nut,” Bill stopped him. “I'll have a _surprise_ for you.”

Dipper thought he'd been flushed before. No, he hadn't. He truly hadn't. Pulling the collar away from his now deep red neck, he wondered what Bill considered a surprise. To be fair, the old Bill would have considered anything from teeth to a screaming head a worthy surprise. This Bill . . . this Bill had some _other_ designs on him and Dipper could hear it in his voice. “O-oh,” was all he could muster, and he mentally slapped himself. Smooth, Dipper, he thought. Very fucking smooth. At least Bill was snickering on the other end. Then again, that too was embarrassing as hell. “I, um,” how the hell did he even begin to address this? He let out a loud sigh. “I have no idea what I'm doing.”

He didn't realize he'd admitted that out loud until Bill said, “Same. But I'm curious, and we'll see what happens. S'aright?”

While he couldn't fathom why, the knowledge that Bill was just as confused as he was actually made him feel better. It didn't chase away the red tint to his skin, though. “Alright.”

They talked a little while longer before hanging up. When he set the phone back in its holder, he went from panicked huffing to shouting, “Mabel, what were those websites again?”

She responded first with an loud, “Are you serious?” Then she came upstairs to help him.

:)

Mabel laughed as soon as they arrived at the shack only to have Bill launch himself at her twin. Taking out her phone, she immediately snapped a picture of Dipper, who blushed so hard that even his ears were scarlet. She laughed, forgetting momentarily that Bill's image in the picture would only show up as a blur and realizing for the first time that they hadn't exactly told their parents that Dipper had a boyfriend. Well, if her twin had wanted it to be kept secret he certainly missed the opportunity as soon as Bill kissed him in front of everyone. She heard a hushed, “Oh,” from their mother and started to tense up when their father's eyes went wide.

They only asked one question on the subject: how long had they been an item? Dipper answered, flustered and gripping Bill's hand nervously, “Since last summer.”

“They were close friends before that,” Mabel further explained. Meanwhile, Bill was oblivious to the tension. 

It was their father who broke the tension by addressing Mabel. “My money was on you to get a beau first. You let me down, slick.” He then ruffled Mabel's hair and she heard her brother let out an audible sigh of relief.

Meanwhile Grunkle Stan scoffed and said, “You shoulda seen her the first summer. She'd have given you a run for your money.”

Inside, they unpacked and readied for a dinner that Grunkle Stan had picked up from the store (he said formal dinners could wait one more day). Mabel was quick to wiggle her eyebrows at Dipper whenever no one was looking, making her twin's fluster all the worse as Bill just continued to scoot ever closer to him. While Dipper was certainly embarrassed at how open they were, she could tell he was glad to be back at Bill's side. If she leaned back enough, she could see them holding hands under the table. As they sat up in the living room that night watching TV, Mabel was constantly pulling out her phone and trying to get good pictures of Dipper and Bill. She was particularly proud of one shot in which Dipper was leaning his head on Bill's shoulder, Bill's arm around her brother's back.

In the back of her mind, she knew that Dipper would probably have liked to enter into this a little more cautiously than he had. Caution had gone out the window though, and she was going to take this opportunity to enjoy her brother's happiness with him. 

:)

Dipper was more than a little nervous about being alone with Bill. With that startling display of affection upon first arriving, he wasn't entirely sure he was ready for much more. Then he felt stupid, assuming there would be more. Then again, with the way Bill had been talking to him on the phone . . . .

“Hey,” Bill whispered when everyone else had gone to bed and they were cleaning up the kitchen (that task had gone ignored in favor of spending some time in the living room). “Let's go sit on the roof.”

“Did you even notice how cold out it was earlier?”

“How did you ever survive the winter before? You think that's cold?”

Dipper finished up the last of the dishes before turning around and sighing. “Alright. Let's do it.” 

A nervousness rekindled in the pit of his stomach as Bill grabbed him by the forearms excitedly and pulled him to the coat rack. “We'll just bundle you up a little. You'll be fine.” Once jacketed and gloved, Bill led him up the ladder and the cold night air greeted them bitterly. Curling up on the cold roof, the two nestled close together and stared up at the cloudy sky.

“No stars. Dang,” Dipper muttered.

“Good,” Bill declared. “No distractions then.”

No amount of preparation or tips Mabel had given him could have readied him for the way Bill kissed him then. He was all force and no finesse, and had Dipper not already been leaning against the roof he would have fallen backwards. Bill pressed his body flush to Dipper's and Dipper's wide eyes slid closed as his hands clutched at Bill's back trying to hook onto something to steady himself. His head was spinning, and he struggled to keep up with the movement of Bill's lips against his. He felt sloppy in comparison, which made no sense to him.

Sense and anxiety stopped being issues as soon as Bill's tongue parted Dipper's lips and Dipper couldn't hold back the moan or the growing fluster anymore. Holding Bill closer, he was on the verge of crying out when Bill's hips ground against his and _something_ was certainly happening down there that Dipper was not wholly in control of. At this point, if he was under the impression that he had any control whatsoever, he was probably wrong. He hadn't kept track of Bill's hands until one slid down his side to the meeting of their hips and started rubbing Dipper and oh God, oh jeez, that felt . . . amazing. It felt vastly different from the times he'd—

“Oh my God,” Dipper gasped against Bill's lips only to have the other teen grin and laugh, breath heating Dipper's cool skin.

He whined, eyes sliding open as Bill's hand retreated, “Nah,” he uttered. “I think that surprise can wait a while.”

“What,” Dipper gasped, “the hell?” Staring at Bill's still closed eyes, he caught his breath enough to say, “That was . . . incredible. How the hell, what have you been doing while I was gone?”

Bill's head dipped to his neck, fingers trailing up Dipper's arm to pull the coat collar from his neck enough for Bill's teeth and lips to find their target. Dipper jumped before practically melting into the bite Bill left on his throat. “Well I certainly didn't practice with a leaf blower. Mabel warned against that.” Dipper had seriously been trying to forget that his sister had given Bill the same tips of this nature she'd given him. He'd almost succeeded until Bill had said that. Then Bill's mouth latched onto Dipper's skin again and somehow, in the midst of the other's teeth and tongue teasing his flesh, he managed the impossible task. But then he pulled back and added, “She also said that I would have to be the one to make the next move. You're too shy otherwise.”

“Oh come on!” Dipper griped, Bill pulling back giggling at his outburst. Dipper's hands retreated from Bill's back only to grab his shirt collar and pull him into a harsher and sloppier kiss. Startlingly Bill's laugh turned into a growl and a hint of anxiety rose up in Dipper's chest momentarily. The feeling intensified when Bill grabbed his wrists and held them above his head. An additional feeling pooled up as Bill continued deepening the kiss, and suddenly Dipper really, really liked being restrained in such a manner. His face heated at the realization, and he wanted to make the thought go away but it wouldn't. By the time Bill pulled back, he was hot and breathing heavily and the chuckle that escaped Bill was so low and dark that Dipper was forced to open his eyes. When he did, he jolted in his seat only to discover one of the drawbacks to restraint. He was pinned down and unable to escape a grinning Bill with glowing blue eyes fixed on him. “B-Bill?” he began, lips trembling.

Bill's grin faded, as did the blue glow in his eyes. His grip on Dipper's wrists loosened and in one second he went from looking somewhat maniacal to extremely self-conscious. “It happened again, didn't it?”

Dipper blinked, heart still beating rapidly but anxiety dwindling all the same. “Again?”

Bill pulled his hands back, staring at them like he was afraid they were going to change at any moment. “I thought I had a handle on this.” He sounded so sad, no, disappointed in himself. “But lately I'll just lose control, and I don't even feel like myself.”

Dipper's anxiety turned to concern as Bill continued to pull back and away from him. Against his better judgment, he took Bill's hands in his to keep him from pulling away anymore. “Do you know what triggers it? Is it anger?”

Bill shook his head, not looking at him. “I . . . don't want to tell you.” That was a first, and it made Dipper even more concerned. Instead of prying, Dipper pulled his hands away and started undoing his coat. Bill squinted at him. “What are you doing?”

“Come here.” He opened his jacket before holding his arms out. “Despite what you said earlier, you're actually shivering.” Bill hesitated for a moment, staring at Dipper's open arms cautiously. Then he slid closer again, arms slowly encircling Dipper's warm waist and head leaning on his chest. Dipper pulled the coat closed around both of them, holding Bill close as the other teen pulled warmth from him. Dipper watched as Bill closed his eyes and relaxed against him. Fingers threading through his boyfriend's hair, he whispered, “I'm sure it'll be fine,” even though he wasn't sure himself.

They stayed like that, holding onto one another to keep warm and listening to the almost dead silent forest. After a while, Bill uttered, “We could always go inside.”

“Thought you said this wasn't cold.” Dipper was glad when he managed to get a smile out of Bill with that. Even so, they stayed there for only a little while longer.

It didn't feel like time had passed between holding each other on the roof and climbing into bed quietly like no one was supposed to know they were sleeping together. Arms still wrapped around each other and legs tangled, they slept well. While the holidays kept them busy, Dipper still felt the lingering concern over Bill's random losses of control.

It reminded him how fragile this arrangement really was.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sexy times ensue . . . .

The holidays came and went too swiftly. Spring semester dragged on, and Dipper heard nothing else of Bill's struggle to control his powers. That worried him more, actually. They still talked, just not about that. He hoped it was because Bill had gotten things under control again.

Dipper expressed his fears of Bill's powers to Mabel, only to have her say, “Just trust him.” Of all the times to be reminded of the mantra 'Trust No One,' this seemed both the most inappropriate and most appropriate all at once. He just couldn't shake the feeling that Bill's reason for not telling Dipper more was because something more sinister was afoot. It seemed the only conclusion he could think of at the moment. But he had to trust Bill. If things were going to work, he had to.

Speaking of trusting Bill, how in the hell had Dipper wound up shirtless on the bed with Bill between his legs the first day back in Gravity Falls? Dipper wasn't sure, but he was blushing from the face down and Bill was chuckling at how red he was getting as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He clenched his fists in the sheets, lying still and nervous beneath the other. How is he so confident? The thought raced through his mind, but he couldn't bring himself to ask as Bill lay across him and kissed his flushed neck. The tension in his torso tightened as he continued to squeeze the sheets harder, unsure of what to do with his hands. Bill continued trailing kisses over his neck, then down his chest before pausing and smiling at the depth of his blush. “You okay?”

Dipper let out a sigh that turned into a grunt. Was he okay? He sure as hell didn't know. “I guess so.”

Bill's grin only widened. “I only ask because it looks like you're morphing into a lobster here.”

Dipper groaned. “I can't help that. Why aren't you blushing? Isn't this your first time doing stuff too?”

“Yeah, but I'm not shy.”

Dipper sputtered. “I'm not shy!”

Bill retaliated by singing, “Shy shy shy shy, you're so shy! Dreadfully shy—!”

“Stop that!”

“Can't look a guy in the eye, you're so—!”

“I got your shy.” Dipper's hands unclenched from the bed sheets and flung out to grab Bill's face. Pulling him in for a burning kiss, his and Bill's arms tangled for dominance as Dipper's legs slid up so his thighs could grip Bill's waist. Locking his legs around Bill, he rolled him over so that he could easily flip him on his back.

Instead of acting dismayed that Dipper was now straddling him, Bill crooned, “Oooo, Dipper Pines,” his voice dropped low and his eyes went half-lidded, “what are you gonna do to me?”

Well, now that Dipper was on top he wasn't quite sure. He'd honestly just wanted Bill to stop picking on him. Shutting off his brain the best he could in this situation, he returned to bruising Bill's lips with his own. The other groaned up into the kiss, hands running up Dipper's back along his spine before nails bit into his flesh. Dipper cried out against Bill's lips, reaching for the other teen's hands to pin them against the pillows. Bill let out a gasp of his own at the bold move, and the look he gave Dipper made him question what he'd done until Bill threw his head back and bucked his hips upward against Dipper's. Dipper keened, whole body shuddering as their clothed erections bumped and he was suddenly seeing stars.

In his moment of weakness, Bill managed to overpower Dipper enough to sit up and spin him into the wall. Dipper gasped, preparing to fight back only to be disarmed yet again by Bill tugging their pants undone and down. “Bill,” he started, but whatever he'd had in mind was lost when they started grinding against one another and all he could do was hold onto Bill's shoulders. This time it was his nails digging into the other's skin.

Bill growled, the sound sending a shock through Dipper's skeletal system as Bill's teeth dragged across his neck and shoulder threatening to bite. Dipper's chest heaved, and he felt like he was hyperventilating from the anticipation and pressure on his nether regions. The sounds that escaped his gaping mouth when Bill reached between them to free their members and started pumping them both would have made him redder had the noises not been transformed into screams when Bill sank his teeth into Dipper's shoulder and started teasing the flesh with his tongue. Dipper was seeing white as he thrust up into Bill's palm, Bill's other palm coming to grip the back of Dipper's neck. Dipper jumped at the sudden contact, gaze locked on the ceiling as Bill suddenly whispered, “Mine,” and a pain shot down his spine. It rocked him, waves of combined agony and ecstasy coursing through him as the tightness in his gut released and something spilled between himself and Bill.

Dipper glimpsed a flash of blue flame out of the corner of his eye before his vision went black. Everything felt fuzzy for a moment, pulse thumping in his ears at first before slowing. He thought he heard Bill screaming his name, but he couldn't quite make it out. When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on his stomach. Dipper blinked trying to shake the blurriness, the static in his ears slowly fading as his senses returned. When he could finally see and hear clearly he saw Bill was pacing the floor, fist in his mouth and eyes blown wide as small whimpers escaped past his hand. Dipper didn't know if it was because his eyes were still adjusting or not, but either way Bill looked like he was actually shaking. Dipper tried sitting up, only to have a burning sensation shoot from his neck down his spine. “Bill?” he croaked out, still struggling to push himself off the bed.

Bill stopped pacing, and before Dipper could blink again he was being yanked upright on the bed into a crushing embrace. He let out a startled gasp at the pain in his neck and upper back, struggling to get air down as Bill mumbled, “I'm sorry,” over and over again into the crook of his neck. When Dipper was aware enough to return the hold, Bill started babbling, “I never meant to hurt you. I didn't meant to. I don't know what happened. I don't know what I was doing, but I didn't mean to—”

“It's okay,” Dipper blurted out, trying to reassure his boyfriend. He couldn't very well ask him what was going on, as the other seemed to have no idea himself. However, when Bill quieted and pulled back slightly, Dipper grunted at the pain again and asked, “Just tell me what happened to my neck, alright?” Bill pulled away almost entirely then, a guilty expression overtaking what had previously been fear. Dipper sighed, somehow knowing he wasn't going to get an answer out of him right away. Rolling his eyes and turning away, his hand immediately reached up to touch the back of his neck. When his fingers came in contact with raised skin that ached at his touch, he hissed before his own eyes went wide. “Oh God,” he uttered, a sickness forming in his gut as he pushed himself out of bed. Grabbing his discarded shirt off the floor, he ran for Mabel's side of the room. Pulling one of her hand mirrors from one of her drawers, he moved to her standing mirror and turned around. Using the hand mirror, he was able to glimpse what it was that had been burned into his skin.

Dipper covered his mouth as he spotted the intricate marks he could only assume were put there by Bill's blue flames. A pattern that looked familiar to him started at the nape of his neck and wove its way down to the middle of his back. The marks were red whelps, like they'd been drawn on using the tip of a hot poker. He gaped at the damage, hand still covering his mouth as the hand mirror nearly slipped from his hand. Setting it down quickly, he glanced at Bill. The teen was still sitting on the bed, knees pulled up to his chest and held there by two locked arms. Bill looked to be on the edge of panic, which coincidentally was also how Dipper felt. Before he could ask though, Bill declared, “I don't know what it is.”

“Well that's bad, because you put it there!” Bill shrank even more at the words, and Dipper cursed inwardly at himself for making his boyfriend feel worse. Abandoning the mirrors and ignoring the pain of the burns, he moved to crawl back into bed beside Bill. Wrapping his arms around the other, he tried to amend his statement with, “We'll figure it out. Okay?” Bill nodded, still curled tight in spite of Dipper trying to hold him. “I'm sorry. I'm just . . . .”

“Scared,” Bill finished for him. He uncurled only a little, lifting his hands to look at them through Dipper's arms. He seemed so . . . lost. “Me too.”

:)

Bill realized something had changed as a result of what he'd done to Dipper not immediately, but certainly within the week of the occurrence. Dipper had consulted his reading material on the subject, but had come up with nothing on what the burn marks could mean. He thought it was a code of some sort, but wouldn't go into further detail with Bill on the matter. It was just as well. They could easily conclude that this happened only because Bill hadn't told Dipper why his powers were flaring so much.

It was because of him. Dipper was the reason.

Ever since Dipper had kissed him back, Bill hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. That wasn't entirely true. He'd thought of Dipper often enough before, but the kiss just made it so much worse. Well, at first he hadn't thought it to be a bad thing. From what Mabel told him, it was natural for him to be this wholly enamored.

But then there were moments where his mind got trapped in an endless loop, a voice echoing in his head that sounded like his but also not like his. It would start off almost like static, but then words would pop up and he could faintly hear the voice uttering 'he is mine' repeatedly until Bill found a way to break the cycle. Sometimes he couldn't, though. Sometimes he couldn't and this was when the flames would start appearing and an aggression burned in him that he couldn't explain or justify and in the few seconds before coming to, he would actually believe that Dipper Pines belonged to him and that if anyone else even dared lay hand or eye on what was his . . . .

And this was always where he recovered his senses, though he himself was never wholly recovered from the thoughts. These didn't feel like good thoughts, protective ones. No, they felt dark and insidious and they scared him almost as much as the nightmares of the people in red robes. He'd almost gotten to the point where he didn't need sleep, which put the nightmares at bay. If only he could control these thoughts, which only sprung up and threatened to take over because of one person.

That one person who Bill was now certain held more fear of him than he was willing to admit.

How did Bill know this? Somehow, he could now feel it. He could now feel everything Dipper was feeling like there was a complete second nervous system thriving within him. It was far more intimate than anything Bill had done in regards to Dipper's dreams.

He figured this out two days after the event that had spawned a researching spree on Dipper's part. Bill went the whole day as he normally would, but there was an ache in his gut that couldn't be filled. It hadn't made sense. He'd eaten at the appropriate times, even succumbed to a few snacks throughout the day, but the ache just wouldn't leave. He was also overwhelmingly tired, which also made no damn sense as he'd gotten what _he_ considered a normal amount of sleep for once. It was actually the tiredness that tipped him off to it, and he'd thought the idea silly at first. As the day progressed, he slowly realized just how foreign these feelings were, almost like they were . . . tangible? Like he could pull them out of himself and analyze them separately from the others? It was a strange way to describe them, like they were merely being projected onto him.

By the time he figured out that his idea wasn't completely unfounded and that it was in fact a reality, he'd received some confirmation. Stepping into the living room, he sat on the arm of the chair Dipper was sitting in and leaned on his boyfriend. That's when he felt it: the nervousness. Bill had felt many things around Dipper, but he had never once made Bill nervous. Not nervous in this manner. And just as with the aching and the feelings of sleep deprivation, he could separate himself from the feeling almost completely.

That led him to pull the open book out of Dipper's hands, mark the page, and close it. “Hey,” Dipper grumbled, but he was only mildly perturbed. Bill knew this intrinsically. Grabbing Dipper by the hands, he pulled his boyfriend to his feet and led him to the kitchen. The other teen was puzzled, and stated his puzzlement with the question, “What are you doing?”

Bill dragged Dipper to one of the cabinets, pulling a box from one of the shelves. Cracking open a package, he turned around a shoved a pop tart in Dipper's mouth. The teen let out a noise of surprise at the food, but immediately bit down on it and started eating. “You haven't eaten anything all day, and you need to give it a rest,” Bill explained as he felt the ache being sated. It wasn't wholly gone, but it was no long roaring within him.

“I'm trying to figure this out,” Dipper argued between bites. “I don't wanna be wearing scarves or have to grow long hair to hide a mark for the rest of my life.” The arguments were halfhearted, and Bill suddenly somewhat disliked the fact that Dipper was so quick to conceal what Bill had done to him. Shaking his head before the loop picked up, he also understood why Dipper was trying to hide it. Bill's powers had always been concerning, and this was only evidence to why they should be tamed.

But there was a part of Dipper that sort of enjoyed having the marks. That part was subtle, almost like Dipper himself couldn't feel it yet, but Bill could feel it all the same and that was just as triggering as Dipper wanting to hide. Bill hid what he was thinking with the request, “Take a break on the research for a bit. Take care of yourself.” Bill pulled Dipper close, and felt the combined warmth of his affection for the shorter teen and said teen's affection for him. Along with the nervousness at contact. The shyness. It made him smile for a moment. “Maybe pay some attention to me?”

Dipper chuckled, leaning into Bill as the anxiety intensified before dissipating. “Sure.”

Mine, Bill thought without consent. But the word stopped there and he tried not to put anymore stock into it.

:)

“Bill seems to notice some things more lately.”

“Yeah.”

“Almost like he's reading your mind.”

“I guess so.”

“Or your body language, for that matter.”

“What's your point?”

“Aren't you a little worried about that? I mean, I've seen close couples but not that close.”

“You and I both know our relationship is far from normal.”

“The decorations on your spine agree with you.” Dipper's face contorted into one of utter shock as he looked up at his twin. Mabel rolled her eyes. “Bro, did you honestly think I wasn't going to notice that?”

He pulled the scarf he was wearing tighter around his neck. “I didn't want anyone to see until I knew what it was.”

“My advice,” she stood up to come pull his hands away from the scarf so she could unwrap and inspect, “don't tell anyone period. Especially Grunkle Stan.”

“Well, I figured that,” he declared as she peered down the back of his shirt.

“Oh my God, can you feel that?”

She poked the marks, and Dipper growled, “That hurts! Stop!”

“I guessed Bill did something to you, but how on earth—?”

“We're looking into it. Okay?”

“You think it's a binding thing?”

Dipper paused, completely freezing. “What?”

“A binding thing! Like, now you technically serve him. After all, Bill is a—”

“Binding? Thing?” Dipper couldn't stop the terrified thumping of his heart. What? How? Why? “Oh God no.”

“It makes sense, doesn't it?” She started ticking things off like this was a grocery store list, and the calmness with which she spoke only made him more frightened. “He can feel what you're feeling, you've got a seemingly permanent scar on you that's distinctly his, I mean the two of you were friends before and all and,” her eye twitched, “I'm not gonna mention what I _think_ the two of you were doing when he gave you that mark, but now you and Bill are practically demon married.”

Before the starts in her eyes could form, Dipper was flapping his arms screaming, “Mabel, no!” He then quieted in case anyone could hear him from the Mystery Shack's shop. “I can't be demon married. I'm fifteen!”

Then she was laughing at him. “It's funny that's the only thing you're worried about.”

“I'm worried about a lot of things!” And now he had this to add on top of those things. “You're taking this way too lightly.”

“Oh, stop it. You're in love with Bill. Being pseudo-bound to him can only be so bad, right?” Unlike her, he could see the potential of this being bad. In fact, this could be catastrophic. “Besides, a bond can be made, a bond can be broken. I'm sure there's a way to demon divorce!”

He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure at all. How the hell was he going to explain this all to Bill? If anything Mabel said held truth, he would have to explain it very soon as Bill probably already knew he was a horrified wreck.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets a bit graphic. My apologies for those sensitive to the idea of sounds.

“You're still not okay.”

Dipper didn't respond at first. It had been a month and he still hadn't told Bill Mabel's theory. Meanwhile the evidence in her favor continued to grow. Bill knew the moment Dipper's moods would shift and didn't hesitate to respond to them. Even now, when they were both supposed to be sleeping, Bill was up and responding to him. “No. No I'm not.”

“Are you going to tell me what you're so afraid of?”

Dipper had a snappy comeback, one that would definitely wound the other. But he refrained from using it. He didn't need to guilt Bill over the no longer burning mark on his neck and back any further. Bill was already upset about it. He still hesitated to touch Dipper's bare skin there. “I'm afraid of a lot of things.” That wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the answer Bill was looking for.

He felt his boyfriend stiffen, like he was considering pulling away. Dipper grit his teeth, telling himself he wouldn't stop him if he did. Now _that_ was a lie. While he may be afraid of Bill (what he could do, who he really was, him finding out who he really was, etc.), he was also afraid of something else. Something he had a hard time admitting even after their years together. That something was why as soon as Bill started sliding his hands out of Dipper's, Dipper tightened his hold on the other's fingers. Bill sighed, but his body didn't relax. He asked, “Do you think things might have been better if we hadn't gotten together?” He gave the question some serious consideration, but ultimately shook his head. “How do you know?”

This question almost had a bite to it, like Bill didn't expect Dipper to actually have an answer for him. But this time Dipper did, and it came falling out before he could bite his tongue. “Because I'd still be afraid of losing you.”

He closed his eyes against Bill's reaction, knowing that he sounded like a sap. He also felt like an asshole, putting a distance between them as soon as he accepted Mabel's theory as a possible truth. Whether it was because he was scared of that level of commitment or just not ready to face it, he wasn't certain. All he knew was that before Bill had been his boyfriend, he'd been his friend. He'd finally concluded that what they'd been before that didn't matter much to either of them. Whether friend or partner though, Dipper could no longer stand the thought of being without him.

Which was exactly why he was on the verge of tears when Bill cupped his face and kissed him for what felt like the first time in a really long time. He choked back on the emotions, quickly hiding them in the event Bill noticed. Then again, Bill would notice anyway. He showed that he noticed by pulling Dipper into a tight embrace, Dipper's face resting in the crook of the other's neck. Slipping his arms around Bill, he clung to him just as fiercely until he felt the raw feelings subside and give to something more akin to serenity. It felt like hours before that moment came, and it was certainly hours before they got any sleep.

The following day, Mabel and Wendy broke the news to them that the Gravity Falls teen population was having a party in town sometime midsummer and they all should go. Dipper's first reaction was to say no, that he had never liked the party scene and he really wasn't interested. Then Bill had expressed an interest and it dawned on him that Bill might not have ever been to an affair quite so large. He might enjoy it.

In fact, Bill was already looking forward to it. Nudging Dipper, he declared, “Sure beats galloping through the woods with a monster on our heels!”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “No. Just a different setting with different monsters.” A sudden fear cropped up and his eyes went wide. “Are Candy and Grenda going?”

Mabel scoffed. “Just because they made you up once—”

“Twice,” Dipper corrected.

“—doesn't make them monsters, Dip.”

Bill started snickering, eyes full of mischief as he whispered, “I wanna see Dipper in make-up.”

Mabel whispered back, “I have pictures,” which elicited another eye roll and elongated sigh from the young man.

“Yo,” Wendy interrupted, scooting closer to Dipper, “it's my last summer here before going to college. Can you at least consider coming for me?” Dipper hesitated. “Just for a little bit. Maybe I'll be able to reserve a room upstairs where you and Bill can,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “escape.”

Dipper's face went red and Mabel gasped. “You can get the full teenage party experience!” Then she tilted her head and he predicted a pout was coming on. “Dang, I need a boyfriend or something.”

“Oh, there'll be plenty of boys, Mabel.” Wendy turned back to Dipper. “What do you say?”

Dipper looked at the expectant faces staring back at him and realized he was fighting a losing battle. Shoulders drooping, he uttered, “I guess someone's gotta monitor all your drinks.”

The girls cheered before flinging their arms around him. The scarf around his neck aided in his smothering for a moment before they let him go and Bill's arms were the only ones around him. Those arms, at least, were comforting. Leaning back into them, he tried not to think about how much he disliked the party scene. 

:)

“You're nervous.”

“I'm not nervous. You're nervous.”

“No, you're definitely nervous.”

“Both of you are nervous, now somebody come zip me up.” Mabel held her hair up as Bill stood to zip the back of her dress.

She saw Dipper squint at her choice. “You're wearing that?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn't it a little . . . long for your tastes?”

She looked down at the skirt, which fell to her knee. Looking back up as she dropped her hair back into place, she said, “Should I go shorter?” Dipper shrugged, and she wondered if she expected any other answer from her twin. She crinkled her nose, staring back in the mirror. “I like this one. My short dresses are too tight. This one won't restrict me if I need to dropkick someone.”

Dipper's back straightened as he squirmed a little in his seat. “A-are we expecting to get in a fight?”

“One never knows.” She started pulling her heels on as Bill moved over to rub one of Dipper's shoulders. Dipper's tenseness eased a little at that. “You don't have to be so tense, you know. It's just a party.”

“Yeah,” Dipper concurred. “Just a party.”

“It's simple, really,” Bill started, “I'll watch out for you, you watch out for her, and Wendy said she'd watch out for all of us.”

“Who's watching out for you?” Dipper asked, and she knew without having Bill's strange powers linking him and Dipper what her brother was thinking. Bill was the one who'd never had this experience. Did he know what they were getting themselves into?

“I'll watch him. Don't you worry about our Bill,” Mabel declared as she came over to pinch both of them on the cheeks. As per usual, Dipper batted her hand away and Bill just accepted it with an 'I'll get you back' grin. “Now quit your worrying and let's go. Wendy should be here any minute.”

She should probably have been a little more concerned. After all, earlier that day Dipper had expressed that he had a bad feeling about the party they were going to that night. She'd just thought he was being a wet blanket. Whether it was her excitement over interaction or her determination to have a good time that made her ignore her brother's concern, she simply didn't know. Either way, they were eventually in Wendy's car and on their way and that was that.

:)

The music was too loud, there were too many people, and he'd lost sight of Bill and Wendy a long time ago. Leg bouncing up and down, he sat on a couch with Mabel's drink and his sitting close beside him. He had a hand on her drink, more concerned about her well-being than his own. Meanwhile, she was flirting with a group of guys (and girls) who all laughed at her jokes and thought she was incredible. The only reason he knew they thought this was because none of them could take their eyes off of her, completely forgetting there were other people at the party.

Dipper pulled out his phone, which he rarely ever used unless there was an emergency. Soos had told him that if things got too heavy Dipper could speed dial him and he wouldn't think twice or ask any questions about it. It didn't even seem to matter that this was one of the few weeks Melody got to come visit him, Soos was still keeping an eye out for him. That was one of the few comforts he was grateful for.

Someone slid beside him and started running a hand up his leg. Dipper's eyes went wide before he realized it was just Bill. Then his eyes went wider because he felt like there were people actually watching them and what they were doing. Meanwhile, Bill was unwrapping the scarf from around Dipper's neck before kissing him there. “What have you been up to?” Dipper's voice cracked as he asked the question, pulling back enough to look at Bill. The other teen was still bent on placing his lips on Dipper's neck, though, and Dipper was only becoming more and more aware of the eyes that may or may not be on them at the moment. As much as he liked the feeling of Bill's lips on his skin, PDA had always somewhat bothered him even before he'd become a part of such displays.

Bill finally broke away from Dipper's throat with a sly look and said, “Some people here seem to think you've turned into a hipster. I asked them what that was and why they thought that, and learned that it was the scarf.” Dipper blushed as said scarf was pulled completely off his person and thrown over his shoulder. “Not that I care if you're a hipster, but,” he subtly point to a group of gawking teenagers behind him and Dipper felt his heart stutter and his fluster deepen, “some of them were under the impression you were available.”

Dipper snorted anxiously. “Thought you'd clear that up, huh?” Bill nodded, clearly pleased with himself as he planted a much more obvious show of ownership on his lips. Dipper had to be honest with himself: this was a show of ownership. And while he was more jittery than ever about said show, he couldn't help indulging Bill just this once and melted into the kiss. It was then he tasted the alcohol on his breath and concern welled up in him. When Bill pulled back, Dipper asked, “How much have you had? You're not supposed to be—”

One of Bill's hands covered Dipper's mouth to stop him, the teen growling at the interruption before the other's palm slid away. Bill closed one of his eyes as he glanced upward, considering his answer. “One or two. No more than two.”

That was a relief. But the other definitely seemed more relaxed than normal. Rubbing the back of his neck, Dipper felt the raised flesh again and was reminded why the scarf had been important. “And what do you expect me to say when someone sees the mark.”

For once Bill didn't look guilty about the presence of the mark. Dipper blamed the drinks as the other whispered directly in his ear, “I just told them you had a sick tattoo that no one knows about but me.” Dipper's eyes went wide again as Bill teased the button on his flannel. “Shame there aren't any rooms available. Wendy said they're all taken.” He hummed to himself. “Maybe later.”

Dipper thought he saw a flash of blue in Bill's gaze as his boyfriend pulled away to rejoin the group he had previously been in. However, if there was a flash, it lasted for less than a second. When Bill was gone, Dipper stared ahead for a moment before trying to process what all had just happened, a bemused, “What?” escaping his lips before realizing he'd lost sight of Mabel. Sitting bolt upright, he glanced around the party for his sister but didn't see her. When he finally did catch sight of her again, she was . . ., “Ugh!” he about shouted when he saw that she was making out with a random guy. Since she was the one pressing the guy into the wall, he didn't feel the need to interfere. She clearly had it under control. Leaning back and trying to unsee his sister locking lips with someone, reached for his drink and got ready to take a sip. Glancing at the stairwell before doing so, he saw Wendy waving at him before pointing back at Mabel and giving him an excited thumbs-up for his twin. “Jesus.” Everything had just gotten incredibly awkward and he didn't think twice about downing his entire cup. He scoffed at the funny tasting liquid, certain that he hadn't gotten anything alcoholic. Still, the remnants of the drink on his tongue were disgusting.

He was considering getting up to get another drink only to be distracted by someone else taking a seat beside him on the couch. He turned, expecting to see Bill and preparing to say something smart only to almost scream at who was sitting beside him. “Well, hi there Dipper Pines!”

“Gideon!” he cried, voice cracking a second time at the party. “What . . . what are you doing here? I thought you were—”

“Oh you,” Gideon said while patting Dipper's arm. Dipper felt sweat gathering at his temples as a sick feeling rose up within him. Pressing himself against the arm of the couch, he felt the need to shake the limb Gideon had touched. The creepy letters from prison he'd received had been enough to put Dipper on edge at the thought of the white-haired individual, but seeing him in person again made the fear feel fresh especially considering how . . . sickeningly polite he was currently being. “I got out a little while ago. After all, my daddy does still have a few connections.” The way he said that made Dipper's stomach turn. Gideon gestured to the crowd of teenagers, “I heard there was a party going on, and as soon as I saw my marshmallow arrive I thought I'd,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “check it out.”

Dipper's insides ceased to function and his first thought was to run for Mabel, grab her, and get out of dodge. As soon as she caught wind that Gideon was here, she'd be begging to leave or at least pummel the kid. Dipper reached into his pocket, instinctively retrieving his phone and getting ready to call Soos for that backup plan. Other hand reaching for his empty cup, he declared rather swiftly, “I'mgettingmore.” Whether or not the sentence was comprehensible didn't really matter. He just needed to get away from Gideon.

Forming a plan to sweep the party for Bill and Mabel as soon as he reached the area where the drinks were being served, he stood up. He was about to bolt when he remembered Mabel's drink. He wouldn't want her to come back to it unguarded. Turning on his heel to grab it as well, he almost collapsed. Suddenly he was so, so lightheaded. He heard both cups and phone clatter to the floor as he sidestepped and started to go down. His head felt like it was filled with cotton, and his vision had black spots. A set of arms grabbed him to help hold him up, but it felt like there was a layer of plastic over his skin creating a strange, numbing sensation against the touch. He blinked, realizing quickly that the individual holding him up was the very person he was desperate to get away from. “Looks like you had a little too much to drink there, Dippy!” His voice turned sinister as he said, “Let me help you.”

Panic laced through Dipper as it occurred to him what was happening. Mouth agape like he wanted to scream, he glanced around in search of someone, anyone, he knew well enough to help him. He saw no one. He didn't see Mabel, Bill, Wendy, he didn't even see Thompson or the others as Gideon's arm snaked around his waist while his other hand looped one of Dipper's arms over his shoulders. Dipper tried to pull away, but all he managed to do was make them both stumble into a wall as Gideon led him out of the house's side door. His attempt only won him a set of nails digging painfully into his side as a low hiss escaped the other teen. He tried saying something, calling for help, but all that came out was a startled moan. Reaching the door, Dipper tried holding onto the handle, the door frame, any part of the door that might help him stay inside long enough for someone to see that he was in dire need of help. Whether it was the drug making him weak that allowed Gideon to best him or simply no one noticed, he didn't know. All he knew was that he was suddenly outside on the dark side of the house, and he was alone with someone who'd threatened to kill him repeatedly.

He was tossed into a poorly-lit alley where the only light was a lamp that seemed to go out as soon as someone approached. Dipper had thought the house the party was at being in town would actually mean they were safer. He was wrong. There was no way anyone was going to hear them here, in a dark corner behind a dumpster and no one else around but his perpetrator. When Gideon dropped him, Dipper landed on his back and hit his head on a brick so hard his vision somehow got worse. His head felt so light but his body was so heavy. He tried kicking away from Gideon, who now groaned in annoyance at him. Dipper gasped when he somehow saw through the black the other pull something from his pocket, something that looked suspiciously like a switchblade. Senses dulled but still alight with horror, Dipper fought to get words to come out of his mouth. He struggled with his lips, his tongue, only to spew out a lame, “P-please, n-n-no.”

Gideon scoffed. “To be fair, Dipper Pines, that drink wasn't meant for you.” That registered enough with Dipper that he knew who it had been intended for. Panic spurred within as Gideon approached with that horrifyingly gleeful expression on his face. “But since I've got you here,” a foot stomped down on one of Dipper's arms, causing him to let out a pitiful whimper, “I might as well get you out of my way permanently.” Dipper's head rocked from side to side, that being the only protest he was capable of at the moment. Feeling around for something to grab and throw at the other, his fingers landed on what felt like a metal bar, perhaps a pipe. Gideon kicked it away immediately as one of his hands reached down and grabbed Dipper's jaw, forcing him to keep still as something sharp pressed against his throat. Dipper went stiff and everything inside him was screaming. “This has been a long time coming, Pines. I would have gotten out sooner had you not interfered with the Society of the Blind Eye.” The blade dug into Dipper's neck, and he felt his back arch like that was somehow going to stop Gideon from dragging the knife over his throat. “See, my daddy was going to get everyone to forget that little incident with me and the shack. But no. You put a stop to that right quick, didn't you.” A laugh too dark for such a high voice made Dipper shiver. “He didn't even remember that there _was_ a society!” Something wet and hot spilled down Dipper's cheeks as the knife started to move, forcing Dipper to cry out. “Too bad you won't live to learn to keep out of other people's business.”

Dipper just knew he was done for, until his speckled eyes were greeted with a flash of blue fire.

:)

Mabel broke away from the kiss with what's-his-name as soon as she heard Bill shouting her brother's name over everyone. She glanced up to see the panicked teen pushing his way through the others and immediately left to follow.

“What's going on?” Wendy asked as she came up beside Mabel.

“I don't know, but if he's panicking we should too!” Wendy didn't question Mabel's logic. She just followed the other out the door and into the dark.

By the time they were all outside in the alley, Bill's hands were alight and he'd already blasted someone off of another person lying on the ground behind a blue garbage container. The two others weren't in her line of view, but she could only assume one was Dipper. When the other person got up enough to confront Bill, cursing and growling about the burn mark on his coat, she gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. Before she could exclaim, Wendy declared, “No one invited _you_!”

Gideon leered at her before turning to face Bill. Bill's flames flickered as recognition dawned on the shorter man. “Cipher? Is that you?” Bill's back stiffened, and fear shot up her spine as she heard the shuffling of whoever it was lying on the ground still out of sight. Gideon's bafflement turned to intrigue. “Cipher! In human form!” Then his intrigue turned to fury as Gideon turned around, preparing to kick the moving body (her brother) back into place. She let out a startled cry when she glimpsed a bloody tipped knife in his hand. This resulted in Bill shooting another blast of blue flame at the white-haired buffoon, who narrowly dodged it this time. Then Gideon glared as a hand that belonged to Dipper reached out from behind the dumpster and into Mabel's line of view. He was alive and moving, at least. That quelled some of her terror. “You side with them now?” Gideon's voice was a mixture of bemused and angered. Had he not been holding a knife, she might have launched herself at him.

Clearly the weapon was not deterring Bill. “He is mine,” spilled from the glowing teen's lips in a voice she had not heard in years. This was what Dipper had told her about. This was what Bill hadn't wanted to discuss with them. She could understand why, now. That voice wasn't the voice they'd come to know. No, it was more reminiscent of— “Give him to me!”

Mabel could see Dipper peering around the dumpster now, eyes full of fear and hand pressed to the side of his neck. He was moving awkwardly, almost like his equilibrium was off balance. She moved forward like she wanted to go for him, only to have Gideon drop down and pull Dipper up by his shirt collar. Bill advanced, only to be stopped when the blade was pressed to Dipper's throat. “No!” Mabel screamed through her hands, tears spilling down her cheeks as sobs threatened to take over. Beside her Wendy was shaking profusely, eyes wide as she was unsure of what to do, afraid to move and try to find help.

Mabel's scream caught his attention, but only for a moment. He went right back to focusing on Bill and asked, “Want him?” No response. Before Mabel could blink, he'd practically thrown her brother at Bill. “Take him!”

The next moment was a blur. Bill pulled Dipper around to their side of the dumpster, blue flames still present but clearly not hurting her brother. She was about to run for her twin, but stopped as soon as Gideon emerged from his side of the alley with a metal crowbar raised above his head. “Bill—!” she started to scream . . . .

The crowbar made contact with Bill's neck and she heard a crack before he hit the ground. He landed by Dipper's legs, head twisted unnaturally to the side.

She couldn't stop the scream that ripped from her lungs.

:)

Dipper stared dumbly at his boyfriend, choking on the words and feelings springing up inside of him. Everything within, so previously numbed by the drug, came screaming back to life with an agony the likes of which he'd never known. Staring at the still open eyes of Bill, the only thing that could come pouring from his vocal cords was his boyfriend's name.

And Gideon just laughed. “If that's really Bill Cipher, you know he's only dead for so long!”

That didn't matter. That didn't matter at all. What mattered was that Gideon had broken his boyfriend's neck right in front of them. What little emotion he hadn't squelched rekindled with anger as he tried standing. His body was still so heavy, but he fought to go after Gideon anyway. As Gideon turned back to face him, Mabel screamed, “Dipper, don't!”

His head started spinning again as he pushed himself up. He stumbled back, only to be dragged upright by the shirt collar again. “Ready to finish what we started?” Gideon growled in his face.

Footsteps raced toward them. Gideon's fist clenched in his shirt. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the bar being raised. Then, once more out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement on the ground where there was none previously.

Dipper's eardrums felt like they had popped when a wave of energy shot from the spot where the movement had originated, the wave knocking everyone back a few feet. Or, in his case, knocking him against the dumpster, which in turn was shoved back a bit. Blinking against the shock, he looked up to see Bill standing up slowly, head lying limply to one side before he jerked to the left and seemingly popped it back into place with an equally loud crack.

Everything in Dipper was restored and crumbled again at the dead expression on Bill's face, which was complimented by black eyes. In seconds, red flames covered his entire body as he hovered up off the ground and moved to Gideon. Dipper didn't look as Bill floated past him. He glimpsed Mabel's shocked expression and she gestured for him and Wendy to cover their ears as she did. Just before he could, an earsplitting scream that could only belong to Gideon reach him and no matter how hard he pressed his palms against his ears he still heard it. He stared at Mabel, who pressed her face into the dirty ground and shook vehemently over what was happening behind him and before her. Wendy's eyes were locked on the sight, her face pale and shoulders shaking.

When the screaming stopped, he still didn't turn around, still didn't pull his ears away. He didn't move, shut his eyes against the light coming off of Bill as he floated back into view. When he realized Bill was just hovering now, neither moving nor aflame, he blinked in hopes that he would calm down and come back to him.

But as Bill slowly, methodically turned his gaze upon Dipper, his expression said it all.

Bill remembered.

He remembered everything.

Dipper was doomed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST UPDATE OUT OF TWO TODAY!!!!

In one moment, the disorientation caused by the drug paled in comparison to the terror he felt with Bill's infuriated gaze on him. He felt his chest begin to heave, hyperventilating and panicking. That wasn't his boyfriend, the almost too sweet Bill Ramirez Pines. That was Bill Cipher, and he was not pleased to see Dipper.

He quickly discovered that 'not pleased' was putting things entirely too lightly when Bill raised his hand and closed his fist. It burst into flames and suddenly Dipper's back was on fire. His mouth hung open, and his throat felt strained but he honestly couldn't feel or hear any sound coming out. Eyes squeezed shut, he thought the initial marking had hurt. No, this burned so much deeper.

“DIPPER!” Mabel screamed over him and the pain stopped momentarily. His eyes slid open to see Wendy holding his sister back, Bill slowly turning to face them.

Dipper didn't care how much it hurt. He didn't want them hurt by the demon. “No!” he managed past the lump in his throat. Sweat poured from his temples as Bill turned his gaze back to him. Dipper should be more intimidated by the fact that Bill wasn't speaking at all, but he would take whatever the demon could dish out to save his twin and friend. “Blame me,” Dipper huffed, back and neck aching. “Don't hurt them.”

Bill glared daggers at him, and Dipper feared for his life. He feared he might wind up looking how Gideon possibly looked behind the dumpster. The absolute worst part was that the face that was going to destroy him was the face he once kissed. With that, his breath stuttered and the tears returned. He was about to close his eyes when Bill raised his hand again and a jet of flames leapt from his hand and wrapped around Dipper's bleeding neck. The air in him was soon squeezed out and he was choking as the demon lifted him off the alley ground. Dipper's back grazed the brick wall behind him, his mark scraping and fraying against the hard surface. His eyes bulged, and all he wanted to do was close them and just let this be his end (a much gentler end than he'd expected), but he got stuck staring at the way Bill's facial features twitched. His vision started to go black, but he still watched those obsidian eyes shifting from one squinting glare to another fiercer look of malice. He thought this would be his last memory: Bill's black gaze and Mabel's pleas for mercy ringing in his ears.

He was wrong. Bill flung him against the closed top of the dumpster before releasing him. Dipper unceremoniously rolled back onto the ground, clutching his throat and sucking in lungfuls of breath. Glancing up, Dipper stared teary eyed at the demon sneering at him with absolute disgust. Dipper started to say something, only for Bill to respond by combusting once more and snarling, “Can it, Pine tree!” Dipper flinched, whole body aching as he rubbed his bruised throat. Even Mabel and Wendy were silenced by the depth and rage in Bill's voice. Then the demon turned away, floating just past the two girls before snarling a little quieter, “Now leave before I change my mind.”

And just like that, he disappeared with a bright flash and an echoing cry that sounded like a half laugh half shout. Dipper, Mabel, and Wendy exchanged glances, almost afraid to move but at the same time afraid not to. The disorientation returned full force and that left Dipper a disheveled mess who couldn't control his reactions.

It took Mabel and Wendy several minutes to get him upright enough to leave the alley and call for Soos to come get them. It took him only a few seconds to break down sobbing. He hadn't expected the night to go well, but he hadn't expected every single one of his worst fears to be realized all at one time either.

:)

“You let _who_ stay _where_? And for _how long_?!” Grunkle Stan was visibly shaking with anger when Mabel explained the situation. He'd figured out something was wrong when they came home with Dipper's eyes red and cheeks tear-stained while sobering up from whatever drug he'd been given.

And without Bill. He noticed right away they were without Bill.

“Mr. Pines—”

“Not right now,” he held a hand up to Wendy, Soos, and Melody, the latter two not having said a word. He remained facing Mabel and Dipper, Mabel holding her brother on the couch as he leaned into her. “Of all the stupid things the two of you have done, this takes the crown! You should have known better. Demons don't change, no matter how nice you are to them. You're lucky to have gotten away alive. Do you realize that?”

“Grunkle Stan—”

“Do you understand?!” he cut her off.

Mabel sighed, arms tightening around her brother's shoulders. “We do. But,” she hesitated in case he was going to cut her off again. When he didn't, she asked, “Do you think we could discuss this in depth some other time?”

“Excuse m—,” it was Wendy who cut him off this time, clearing her throat and nodding towards Dipper. Their great uncle stared for a bit, taking in his nephew's condition. Dipper was still rubbing his throat, the cuts Gideon had left no longer open but still covered in dried blood. Out of the two, the young man was certainly the most distraught and nothing Stan could say was going to make things better. Mabel knew that he knew this from the way his face softened just the slightest bit before the old man let out a loud sigh. “Fine. But the two of you are grounded.” Mabel was about to protest, as he had never grounded them before. Then he gave her a sterner look and she quieted. “You,” he pointed at her, “gimme your phone.” She sighed and reached into her pocket and handed it to Grunkle Stan. “And you,” he gestured to Dipper, who didn't look up, “I want your journal ASAP.”

“When are we getting them back?” Mabel asked.

“When I damn well feel like giving them back. Right now the two of you need to think about what you did. Then come back to me and explain to me just what you _weren't_ thinking.”

When he left the room still fuming, Wendy and the others came over to hug Mabel and Dipper good-bye. They made Mabel promise to take care of Dipper, as it seemed like he wasn't in any position to take care of himself at the moment. As they left, she turned to her twin and asked, “Want me to get the journal for you?”

She expected some objection, but he didn't even hesitate to nod. It struck her just how bad he must be feeling if he was that quick to give up something so precious to him. She left Dipper lying on the couch to retrieve the book from their room. Once she located it on their bookshelf, she brought it to Grunkle Stan. Leaving it with him on the kitchen table, he stopped her. “Just,” her great uncle paused, staring down at her phone and Dipper's journal thoughtfully, “how . . . banged up is Dipper?”

Mabel was touched by the concern Grunkle Stan was reluctant to show, but the question was difficult to answer. Compared to Gideon Gleeful, Dipper was lying on a cloud at the moment. Physically, at least. Emotionally however . . ., “He's taking it hard,” was her only response.

She realized how gross of an understatement that was by the way he scoffed. “I figured something was off about that Bill kid, after that first summer that is. I didn't expect this.”

Mabel rubbed her forearm, looking down at the floor. “We didn't really know who he was until we came back. And . . . it was my fault.”

Grunkle Stan's brow furrowed. “What?”

Her head lowered even more as nervousness took hold. “I actually kinda figured out who he was before Dipper did. Dipper was going to do something about it. But,” her voice dropped sadly, “I stopped him.”

Grunkle Stan turned more fully to her, and she hadn't thought it possible but his brow knitted together even more. “And what, pray tell, possessed you to do that?”

“I thought we were doing the right thing,” she defended. “He didn't remember anything! He was alone, and he was scared when things started getting,” she waved her hands, searching for a word, “weirder for him.”

“Mabel,” Grunkle Stan's hands clapped together in a steeple, which he pointed at her, “you were housing— _I_ was housing—a demon, and your main concern was his feelings?” He pinched the bridge of his nose when she gave him no reply. “Oh boy. Why am I even surprised anymore?”

Disheartened by the comment, she sat down in the chair next to him. Part of her thought that she should be going back to check on Dipper, but she also knew from experience that he wanted to be left alone. While she couldn't say any of her exes had tried to kill her in quite the same manner as Bill had tried with him, she knew on some level what Dipper was going through. He didn't handle things the same way she did, either. He needed to be alone. Daring to look at Grunkle Stan, she admitted, “This is my fault and he took the blame for it.” She quickly wiped the tears away from her eyes before they could start to fall. “Bill should have come after me, not him.”

Grunkle Stan placed a hand on her shoulder, encouraging her to look at him. “He shouldn't have gone after either of you. And frankly,” he paused, exhaling as he thought before speaking, “I don't think it matters who he attacked. He's still gone, and both of you are still here and healthy.”

She heard the words he didn't say: and Dipper would still be a mess over it. She knew it was true, but she still wished there was some way to make her brother better. She'd give anything to help him bypass the heartbreak she knew somewhat well. However, much like her, he was going to have to figure out how to move on on his own.

Now Mabel just prayed that Bill didn't come back to seek some form of revenge.

:)

Summer's end neared. It only took Grunkle Stan a few days to cool off and return their belongings. When he went to hand Dipper the journal, though, Dipper turned away from it entirely. He hadn't left the house in so long, or shown any interest in heading for the woods. Wendy and the others tried to cheer him up by getting him to watch television or pulling him into meaningless contests and games. They even joked that he should apologize to Robbie for getting upset over the guy moping over Wendy those years ago. That actually won them a smile for a moment, then his features would fall once again and he'd return to feeling just as down as he had been before.

He avoided sleep when he could and only ate half of what he was given. When he did sleep, it was dreamless. Somehow that was more painful than being plagued with nightmares, because it made him feel like he was just being ignored. He wasn't worth the time or trouble. The dead silence was so suffocating that he'd driven himself to near insomnia.

One day the lack of closure made him snap. He'd managed to go the rest of the summer avoiding mirrors but on that day, on their sixteenth birthday, the day before they planned to leave Gravity Falls and return to home and school, he'd undressed in front of one only to be reminded that he still had a series of marks running down the back of his neck and spine. An hour later, Mabel had walked in on him to find their room and the remainder of the attic utterly trashed. He was frantic and sitting on the floor in the middle of the mess with his legs crossed and arms wrapped tightly around his waist. She dropped whatever it was she was holding and asked in a high-pitched voice, “What the hell happened, Dipper?” He shook his head, not wanting to tell her at first. Then she stepped over the fallen objects and planted herself in front of him, not giving him any choice in the matter. “Tell me,” she demanded in a more serious tone.

The trepidation only lasted so long when she was staring so fiercely at him. “I,” his jaw tried to lock, but he forced himself to speak through it, “I was looking . . . for the gun. That I took from the society.”

Mabel's eyes went wide. “You kept that?”

There was a moment before he nodded, staring down at his feet. “I didn't want to risk anyone else using it. But,” the tears that had been welling up in his eyes spilled, “I can't find it anywhere.” His whole being shook as the sobs came. He covered his eyes, feeling the light touch of Mabel's hand on his knee as he tried to pull himself together. The whole second half of this summer had been a study in keeping himself together, and right now he was failing miserably.

After a moment of letting him cry it out, Mabel asked, “And you were going to use it for what, exactly?” Dipper didn't answer, because he didn't need to. They both knew why he'd wanted the gun. Her tone turned into one of scolding, “You know just forgetting him won't make it go away, right? You've seen the consequences of memory erasure—” 

“I'm just tired of going to sleep and not seeing him, then waking up and not having him there, okay?” he argued through the cracks in his voice.

“And,” her voice elevated in both volume and severeness, “that's pretty damn hypocritical of you, don't you think?”

He looked up enough to see that she was scowling. Wiping his nose with his arm, he started to say, “What—?”

“You stopped me from wiping my memories of my exes. What gives you the right to try and do what I'd wanted to do when we were twelve?” He stopped sniffling and focused entirely on her then. “I know none of my boyfriends really threatened to kill me. No, they only went after you for trying to protect me. I get that these situations aren't the same. But being kidnapped by gnomes and forced to marry thousands of them, or being carried around by a giant robot, or learning that the guy I first kissed was due to marry a manatee isn't really pleasant either.”

He wiped his eyes one more time. “You're right.” He started to choke up again, but pushed it down quickly. “But . . . you never did anything to deserve those things. They just . . . happened.”

He was about to say more when she asked, “Are you trying to tell me that you deserved to get strangled and thrown into the trash, because have I got news for you buster! I will backhand you into the goddamn sun if you say that aloud.” He flinched away from her as she raised her hand for emphasis. She breathed deeply, calming down before speaking again. “We both played a part in this, don't you think? Do you think I should have gone through what you did?”

He shook his head, but before she could say anything else he added, “None of your exes branded you with mysterious markings either.”

She opened her mouth to contend with that statement, but soon closed it when she came up short. Sighing, she offered, “We'll get you a demon divorce, bro bro. There's gotta be something.”

Dipper shook his head, not believing there was a way to accomplish such a feat. Not without Bill there. As Mabel pulled him into a hug before forcing him to get up and help her clean, he wasn't sure he would ever see Bill again. For all he knew, he was going to be stuck like this forever. Marked. Alone. Unable to sleep and unable to move on. How could anyone expect him to move on when he had Bill's handwriting on him? Hopelessness set in as he realized perhaps he'd been condemned in worse ways than death. Without any real answers as to what was etched into his skin, however, he could never know for certain.

Meanwhile in the shadows, someone else held the gun.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SECOND UPDATE OUT OF TWO TODAY! MAKE SURE YOU READ CHAPTER 10 FIRST!

The mindscape hadn't changed, and somehow that only managed to infuriate Bill even more. He fumed for days, which quickly turned into weeks. Time passed strangely when he wasn't in the mood to deal with anything. It didn't matter how many years he'd been out and how many opportunities he'd missed out on because of the Pines family. He'd play catch-up later. At the moment, he just needed to keep moving before he started to really sit and think about what had transpired.

He wanted several things at the time. He wanted to maim. He wanted to wound. He wanted to put someone through hell, but he knew that if he took one look at any of the people he wanted to make suffer he would falter for some goddamn stupid reason. What stupid reason was that? It was that he continued to feel what this artificial vessel had started to feel in regards to everyone in the Mystery Shack. He spent hours upon hours just stamping down the emotions, crushing the thoughts of concern that sprang up. He even went so far as to break a few limbs just to divert some of the pain. It wasn't like he couldn't heal them if he wanted to. He'd reattached his own head for hell's sake! But they wouldn't stop. They just kept coming, and every time he felt them he took it out on his surroundings.

The summer was almost over when it finally registered why he was so angry: no one had ever made him feel quite so . . . stumped. No one had even been wise enough. No one had ever been _dumb_ enough. He'd never been this uncertain in all of his existence. Uncertainty simply wasn't in his nature, and he'd now spent years feeling a plethora of the godforsaken emotion. Emotions . . . he wasn't without them, but they were never, ever this frustrating. Before, he'd at least had something akin to control over . . . everything! Absolutely everything had been under his control, and that had been taken from him with the pull of a rusty old trigger.

Perhaps what made him angriest was that he had spent so long in that human form that now he felt incapable of getting out of it. He could if he wanted to. However . . . .

His thoughts drifted towards certain aspects of the past so often that he no longer noticed when he was setting something on fire. That is, he didn't notice until he felt his throat go hoarse from snarling and shouting in whatever language he saw fit to use that moment.

The absolute worst part was that, even in the mindscape, he could feel traces of what Pine tree was feeling. More often than not, the kid was miserable. “As he should be!” he'd started off saying. Then the thoughts of the Bill they'd known, the one he'd been, started drifting into his line of sight and he'd get stuck shooting down the ridiculous amounts of sympathy that idiot felt. It was exasperating how easy it was for those fucking feelings to come crawling back into view. They felt about as much his as Pine tree's felt. “No one gets inside my head!” he'd shouted into the realm that was empty save for him. It was impossible. It was illogical. He had never had a single person penetrate his thick skin, much less two entities. He had never had skin to penetrate!

It had taken monumental self-control not to obliterate the twins for what they'd done to him, for stripping him of his memories and then . . . coddling him! He'd gone to that society looking to get them out of his way permanently (McGucket's inventions were more useful and effective than he could have asked for), but they'd . . . they'd . . . .

He found himself incapable of finishing his thoughts. They looped and circled and words got hung up and all he could think to do was blame the human form he kept. With human forms came additional maintenance, and this one was full of memories and feelings he couldn't seem to get a handle on. Possession was temporary. Its impermanence had led him to never question his ability to handle the human condition. This was so much worse. It seemed the things he'd felt while out of his wits were more persistent than he had given them credit for. Feeling traces of Dipper's emotions on top of the those of his previous self's . . . something had to be done. Those kids had set him back in his plans enough, they weren't about to succeed in corrupting him.

He raced blindly into formulating a plan. With the knowledge that the gun the society had used was still out there, he set out to find it. It didn't take long at all for him to locate it, and in his human form he was able to traverse to and from the mindscape without any hiccups. So the human form was still useful, granted full of unnecessary thoughts and feelings.

Popping back to the shack that one time had almost been overwhelming for him, however. As soon as he had left his realm, he was slammed with Dipper's feelings. They were strong and demanding and he'd practically doubled over from the force with which he'd been hit. Even more humiliating, the other Bill's stupid feelings also returned full force. The longer Bill had control of his body, the more faded those feelings became. Faded was not the same as gone, though. He wanted them gone.

He considered setting fire to the shack, maybe killing Pine tree and Shooting star in the process. He didn't, though. Instead he sifted carefully through their belongings in a manner that wouldn't leave them suspecting anything, searching for his target. He found the gun buried in a box of junk in the attic, then leapt back into the mindscape before either of the twins could come back upstairs. Once he had it though . . . he didn't remember what he wanted to do with it. Gun in hand, he found himself scowling at the real source of all his trouble and was considering destroying it when he felt something he had not yet felt on Dipper's end of the connection they shared: anger. 

Bill was taken aback, almost wanting to (needing to) see what had brought on this change of pace. He quickly berated himself for even desiring to look into the situation, scowling and growling as he lit one hand and prepared to annihilate the object he now possessed. He stopped just as he felt something else; Dipper's anger crumbled into . . . despair. And then, just like that, those goddamn feelings were rising up to spar with him again. Feelings of worry, longing, helplessness, they all tried to overwhelm him just because the little bastard he'd accidentally marked as his pet had decided to throw a fit.

He contemplated breaking a wrist or an ankle just to divert the emotions again. Instead, he did something Shooting star might have come up with (the idea that this might win her approval almost made him pass up on the idea). He thought that if he indulged the feelings and checked up on Pine tree just once, he would have an easier time getting the stupid other Bill to pipe the fuck down and let him get back to business.

As soon as he entered into the conversation between Pine tree and Shooting star over memory erasure unseen, he knew he'd never been so wrong. Feeling what Dipper was feeling had been frustrating, but seeing it firsthand . . . how was he supposed to deal with that? He shook his head of the thought. He wasn't. Dipper wasn't his problem anymore.

Only . . . he was. He was very much Bill's problem.

Bill stayed longer than he'd intended, watching Mabel and Dipper clean up the mess the human had made in searching for the gun. Bill glanced back down at said object, and felt a pang of . . . this feeling he had no name for. He knew so much, and yet he couldn't name that feeling. He watched as Pine tree's face scrunched and twisted, the teen clearly struggling with his own round of unwanted thoughts and feelings. He was failing. While Dipper could hide them physically, that didn't mean he wasn't feeling them or thinking them. 

Watching the human struggle used to be something Bill enjoyed, because it was state of being he simply couldn't comprehend. Now that he was living in that state, he suddenly knew how difficult it was. The more he watched the kid fight, the more . . . not himself he felt. He pondered granting Dipper his wish, letting him forget there had ever been a character named Bill Ramirez Pines. It was a more merciful end than Bill felt he should want to give the human.

Pacing the upstairs of the shack while still in the mindscape, he held the gun firmly as he weighed out his options. The twins deserved some punishment for what they'd done to him. It wasn't like him to let them off easy after they'd used him, lied to him, _violated_ him. They'd done things no meat sack had ever done before and survived. And yet the other Bill still demanded he reach out and touch Pine tree, like he was something precious. He had to be precious. 

Why else would he brand Dipper with his name? Why else would he want the rest of the world to know that this human, this specific bag of bones, was out of bounds for any entity save for him? Why else would he feel such an intense desire to own him? That hadn't been their Bill declaring Dipper as his. No, that had . . . that hadn't been him either. That was . . . a confluence. Those moments occurred when Bill Cipher and Bill Ramirez Pines were actually one in the same person. Now, more than ever before, they were fractured halves.

And there it was: the uncertainty. The inglorious uncertainty that he had never once felt before encountering the Pines twins. Collapsing on the attic window seat, he kept the gun on his lap while rubbing his forehead with one hand. Sighing dramatically, he couldn't fathom what was wrong with him. Something had to be wrong with him at this point. There was nothing special about these kids. They weren't any more brilliant or foolish than their predecessors, the ones who'd written the journals and really tackled the mysteries of Gravity Falls. They were unimpressive, stupid, just plain old humans.

But these plain old humans had bested him. After they'd bested him, instead of casting him out, they'd taken him in. For four years he'd stayed with them and . . . .

Night was falling. He reached down to re-break a wrist he'd abused so often of late to quell the ridiculous thoughts that were coming to his head at the moment. Glaring fiercely at the door to the teens' room, he waited for them to go to bed and go to sleep. When they did, he would take care of this. Steeling himself against anymore thoughts connecting him to them, he resolved to take care of this. He'd erase their memories of his alter ego and then he'd never have to be bothered with . . . .

That was a lie. He fucking knew that was a lie as soon as he was reminded of the brand he'd placed on Pine tree. Watching him undress and get ready for bed, he caught sight of his name on that fragile spine of his and recalled just how permanent that kind of binding was. Mostly permanent. There was a way to remove it, but he would have to dig deep into his knowledge base to recall that process. That would take time. He didn't have time. He wanted the twins, the emotions, the connections gone right now.

He stood up, marching over to Pine tree's side of the room first. Typing the name 'Bill Ramirez Pines' into the gun, he aimed it at Dipper's head. Bill decided that in the epilogue of the machine's work, he would simply tell Pine tree the marks on his back were the result of an accident with a creature in the woods. Finger on the trigger, he was one muscle twitch away from having to listen to one more mopy secondhand feeling, from ending the kid's misery and . . . .

Why would he care? Why did it matter so much that Dipper was unhappy? Why was he even wasting his time doing this? That's all this was: a waste of time.

He caught on quickly that his hesitation was brought on by the other Bill, repeating over and over that this was wrong, this wasn't the way to end this. He needed to think, he needed to plan, he needed to . . . .

That's all he had been doing! Thinking, planning, that's all he'd ever done! Now that he was stuck with a barrage of emotions that were his but not his, his whole world had been turned upside down and he had no clue how to even begin to readjust.

At this point, he snapped. Pulling the gun back, he retreated deeper into the mindscape, getting as far from Dipper and Mabel and the Mystery Shack as he was capable. When he'd reached the border of his limited space, he stopped and screamed at the top of his lungs. Body aflame, for the first time since being back he returned to his true triangular form.

And even then, much to his dismay, the feelings and sensations didn't stop. That's when he knew that what had happened could fade, but it would never go away. Burning half the town couldn't solve this, though the thought sounded so much more appealing than it ever had before. He had to find another way, and he would have to face Pine tree again without killing him. It wasn't that he couldn't kill him. He could peel the flesh off of the kid any day now.

Except he couldn't. Even now, thinking of the damage he had done, he felt that pang again.

Resigned to this fate, he threw the gun into a gorge and watched it shatter. Sighing, he put the fact that he was a much bigger mess now than even when he'd initially been locked out of Gravity Falls out of his mind. The twins were leaving the following day. The distance was great enough that he might be able to escape Pine tree's emotions for some time. If he was lucky, the twins wouldn't come back. He didn't count on it, though. In the meantime, he'd have to find more effective ways to clear his thoughts.

And he'd have to find a way to break the tie between himself and Dipper Pines.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should probably warn that there's some explicits coming up.

“Are you sure you wanna go back this year?”

Dipper hesitated. Then nodded. “I wanna see Wendy and Soos. And I miss the old man.”

“Then . . . why don't we go up halfway through the summer? Maybe Mom and Dad will let us drive ourselves for once.” Dipper agreed. It was a good idea, but they both needed to work on their driving first. Dipper was overly cautious and Mabel was overly aggressive. They needed to tone each other down.

And Mabel wasn't about to let Dipper lie to himself: he was nervous about going back to Gravity Falls.

For once in their lives, Mabel had done the majority of the research on the supernatural. She was determined to get rid of Bill's mark on him, as she knew he wasn't going to be wholly over the demon until she succeeded. She'd even consulted priests, who just looked at her like she'd lost her damn mind. Ain't that just the way, she thought. Bring a real demon problem to them and they didn't have a clue how to deal with it. Either that or they simply wouldn't. Something about having to get the Vatican to investigate first, and that's only if the subject of the demonic attack proved to be truly under threat and not just 'ill' as they'd put it. She'd never cussed so much in a church parking lot.

It was actually much later in the summer than she'd thought it would be when they returned to Gravity Falls. They would only be spending August there before heading back for their junior year of high school.

Their first day back, Candy and Grenda demanded an immediate girl's night out. For once, Mabel felt some trepidation. Looking back at her brother, who was unloading the car with Grunkle Stan, she started to ask him if he would like to join when he said, “Go have fun. I'll be here with the smelly old guy.”

“I resent that.”

And again, she was about to ask if he was sure he'd be alright when he reassured, “I'll be fine. Go.” With that, Grenda and Candy were dragging her away and she barely had time to wave to her brother.

She really hoped he was right and that he would be fine.

:)

Dipper and Grunkle Stan yelled at the television set for as long as they could stand, trying to find a good program to watch. After a few good hours of bad sitcoms and acting, they gave up and decided to retire for the night. Heading upstairs, Dipper opened the door to his and Mabel's room and flipped on the lights. He was about to start unpacking.

But he froze when he saw a familiar figure perched atop the dresser.

The door behind him clicked shut, the subtle turning of the lock almost going unnoticed as his eyes met Bill's. Almost all of his internal organs came to a grinding halt, and suddenly the only thing he could hear was his pulse thumping in his ears. Bill's expression was dead, and he didn't know whether to fear him or . . . he knew he should be running at this point. That face looked so flat and distant, he should really be looking for a way out of this room.

At the same time, something in the back of his mind wanted him to run to the demon. He thought he'd never see him again, and he thought that if he did Bill wouldn't be in this body. But seeing that face again . . . it was almost too much. His thoughts made him tear his eyes away from Bill's as he clamped his mouth shut to keep from making a fool of himself.

Dipper kept his gaze down even as he heard Bill slide off the dresser and move towards him. He instinctively took a few steps back, back hitting the door as Bill continued to approach. As the demon neared, he tried hard not to recall the last encounter they'd had. Granted, he tried not to recall anything he'd experienced with anybody who went by the name 'Bill.' Still not meeting the demon's eyes, he shut his eyes and flinched when a hand reached up to grab his jaw. The grip wasn't rough, but it wasn't gentle either. It was cold, appraising. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried not to think of how easy it would be for that hand to slip down and start choking him. Or slide up and caress his cheek.

He thought he'd gotten over this level of despair, but being faced with him again . . . he was reminded all over again of how completely foolish he'd been. It didn't help that Bill was looking at him like an object with those eyes he used to stare at for so long. He felt his features pinch when Bill stated in complete monotone, “I didn't think you'd come back.”

A hint of hope started to rise in Dipper's chest, but he quickly squelched it. There was no affection in Bill's voice. There never would be again. It was a miracle Dipper wasn't dead right now. With that in mind, he probably should have been picking and choosing his words carefully. Instead, the question slipped past his lips, “What do you want from me?” Because there was no way Bill was here for him, or anything he was interested in for that matter.

“To correct some mistakes.” That shouldn't have lanced him the way it did. Being called a mistake shouldn't have knifed him in the back quite the way it did. His breath stuttered and his eyelids continued squeezing tighter as Bill's hand slid to the back of his neck. “This needs to go.”

Dipper's eyes slid open and he dared to look up at Bill. Same dead expression. Same absent gaze. Why did this have to hurt so much? “Can I—?”

“No.” The answer was quick and forceful, like he knew that Dipper wanted to know what it was before it went away. Honestly Dipper should be looking forward to being free of the marks, but all he could do was think of the moment the mark had been burned into him in the first place. His cheeks flushed as he put the thoughts out of his head. He wanted to keep it together. He really wanted to. “Now am I going to have to remove your shirt for you, or are you capable of doing it yourself?”

The statement lacked sarcasm. Sarcasm he could have handled. This . . . he was on the verge of tears. He had never been approached so coldly, by anyone. Not even his family, whom he'd done some rather poor things to at times, had made him feel so . . . meaningless. But he deserved this. He knew he did, and therefore he couldn't complain. God knew he wanted to say something though. The only thing stopping him was self-preservation.

Bill's hand pulled away from the back of his neck to allow Dipper to remove his shirt. Pulling off his hat and dropping it to the floor, Dipper undid the top buttons of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He struggled with this task, fingers shaking as he fought with the buttons and sleeves. As soon as the shirt was off, Bill grabbed his shoulder (this time roughly) and started to turn him around. Nervousness cropped up and suddenly Dipper was fighting the hand, shrugging out of it and uttering, “Wait, wait.” He almost whimpered at the first sign of emotion on Bill's face he'd seen since the demon's arrival: irritation. Dipper almost forgot what it was he was going to say under the pressure of that gaze, which dared him to question Bill. Gulping, he choked back the tears and asked, “How much will it hurt?”

Bill let out an exasperated exhale through the nose, closing his eyes like it was taking all of his strength to keep himself from losing his temper. When he seemed to visibly count to ten, he said in that monotone voice, “A lot if you don't shut up.”

Then Bill turned him around with a lot more force than before, Dipper throwing his hands out at the door to keep from slamming into it. He shook as Bill's hands settled on the backs of his shoulders on either side of the marks. Facing away from Bill, Dipper felt his tears start to flow freely and his jaw start to lock. His chest felt tight and the shuddering just wouldn't stop as Bill's fingers started to move over the raised skin, preparing to trace each shape. Squeezing his eyes shut, Dipper clenched his fists against the door. “I'm sorry.” The hands on his back stilled, indicating that he'd said those words aloud. And then his jaw, which had previously been set and tight, suddenly came unhinged and wouldn't stop moving. “I never meant for things to get that far. I wanted to tell you. As soon as I knew, I wanted to tell you. But . . . I cared. I didn't wanna lose—”

There was a low growl that preceded a hand snagging a handful of his hair before he was shoved fully into the door, Bill pressed against his back. The wood dug into his bare skin, his face crushed painfully against the hard surface. Suddenly, the demon's mouth was beside his ear and hot breath was blowing against his neck and face as Bill snarled, “I hope you realize how easy it would be for me to snap your spine right now.” Dipper's stomach turned as Bill pressed even closer, leaving him no room to escape. The demon's grip on Dipper's head tightened, forcing him to cry out through gritted teeth. He couldn't speak, he could barely breathe, and Bill was only leaning into him harder. “You disgusting meat sack, do you have any idea what I should do to you?” Dipper whined against the wood, feeling crushed and helpless and seconds away from death. “Do you have any idea the amount of pain you _deserve_ for the time you took away from me?”

“Then get it over with,” Dipper somehow spewed against the door. Though terror was crawling up and down his spine and flipping his insides, he could take this. He could take this so much better than the emotionless facade Bill had been trying to keep up. He could so long as he didn't have to look at that face again.

As if he knew that would break him, Bill pushed off of him before throwing him to the floor by his hair. Dipper hit his head hard, body aching as Bill placed a foot on his chest to hold him in place. Dipper's hands immediately reached for the foot, trying to push it up and give his flesh a reprieve only to falter at Bill's ebony gaze. He let out another whimper as the demon bared his teeth at him and continued growling, “No human being has ever _humiliated_ me quite like you have!” Dipper closed his eyes and turned his head to the side, more tears sliding from the corners of his eyes as he shook underfoot. Then Bill knelt down and seized his jaw to force him to look back at him. “And I can't even kill you thanks to this!” He dragged his foot off Dipper, scraping his torso with the heel of his shoe. His feet were now on either side of the young man's body as Bill pulled him upright by the jaw to claw at the back of his neck. Dipper let out an even more undignified cry as Bill clarified, “Because then I'll be stuck with you in the mindscape, and then I'll never be rid of you!” Dipper almost screamed as Bill's mouth morphed, his teeth turning sharp and tongue becoming forked. He practically wailed as red flames sprung momentarily from his fingertips and licked Dipper's skin. “I've waited this long to finally get rid of you.” Bill's face drew nearer and Dipper squeezed his eyes shut as the tongue flicked out and just barely skimmed his cheek. He tried turning away, but his head was locked painfully in one position. “And you just couldn't keep your _fucking mouth shut_!”

“I'm sor—”

“ _Shut up_!” Bill's hand readjusted so it was covering Dipper's mouth and suddenly his mark was on fire and he was screaming against the demon's fingers. Bill's nails, now talons, dug painfully into his cheeks, adding to the agony of the burning mark. “I hate these thoughts.” Bill hissed. “I hate these _feelings_.” The pain stopped just as quickly as it started and Dipper was left a sweating mess, his insides feeling as though they'd been utterly crushed. “I should really hate _you_!” And then Dipper was dropped hard onto the floor, back arching as he failed to give his sore scars a reprieve. His mouth hung open and he waited with bated breath for further retaliation. But the longer he lay on the floor, sweating and whimpering and shivering . . . nothing happened. Opening his eyes, he blinked away the tears to see Bill, still and breathing heavily. His hands were on either side of Dipper's face, claws retreating. Dipper watched as his teeth started to reshape themselves into something less sharp, tongue returning to a more human shape. The last to change were his eyes, which gradually went from an enraged obsidian to their typical gold. The rage melted from his face and Bill just looked . . . resigned. No. Bill looked just as crushed as Dipper felt. The last sentence to leave Bill's lips was almost inaudible, but it ripped through Dipper like a knife. “But I can't.”

Dipper had never been so afraid to move in his life. He was also pretty sure he'd never seen anyone go through quite that many emotions in one sitting. He watched as Bill closed his eyes, his hands the only things keeping him up as his head drooped solemnly. He looked so defeated, and Dipper wasn't sure what he should do at this point. Lying there with his back burning and his body most likely forming bruises, he struggled on whether to fight or flee.

Or something else.

Staring up at this human version of a demon, he knew he wasn't looking at the Bill he once . . . loved. Or was he? It seemed the demon was just as confused on the matter as he was, and that's what had truly brought on the outburst. He hoped, at least. This outburst should have left Dipper more horrified than ever, but all he could think about was the sentence that had last left the demon's lips. Maybe he was just as stupid as Bill Cipher thought him to be. What Dipper was thinking of doing might actually kill him, but at this point he didn't have much to lose and his options were pretty much die or die.

Ignoring the screaming agony in his back, Dipper sat up just enough to gently press his lips to Bill's. They were just as soft as he remembered, and somehow tasted the same. The other froze instantly, and Dipper tried mentally preparing for another round of pain. Squeezing his eyes against the hurt of rejection, he started to lie back down.

Then something in Bill awoke and he crushed his lips to Dipper's and knocked the teen off balance. He followed Dipper to the floor, kiss unbroken and growing needier. Inside Dipper's chest, something melted and fluttered as his hands slid over Bill's back, the demon's hands moving to cradle Dipper's head and also guide him into a much deeper kiss. Bill's hips shifted as he lowered and pushed himself between Dipper's legs, Dipper clutching at the demon's back as Bill dragging his lips over Dipper's face and throat, as though tasting his skin for the first time. In a way, this _was_ the first time.

Suddenly Bill was off of him, and in one fluid movement he had scooped Dipper up off the floor and tossed him onto his bed. Dipper wasn't given the opportunity to roll over onto his back as Bill pulled his hips up enough to undo his jeans and tug them and his underwear off. Dipper flushed at his own nudity, anxiety flaring up at the implications of what was to come. Once he was fully undressed, Bill's hand reached to turn his head toward him. The demon leaned over him to place a brief kiss on Dipper's lips, Dipper catching sight of the blue now in Bill's half lidded gaze before the tips of two slick fingers pressed into him. Dipper didn't question the slickness, only keening and grabbing handfuls of the blankets and sheets on the bed as he tried to focus instead on the hand running over his back and sides. Somehow that helped him relax, allowing him to at least try and enjoy having Bill's fingers inside him for a time. They moved in and out, flexing and stretching him as his back burned and tears pricked at his eyes again. He felt Bill lean over him once more, lips grazing the back of Dipper's neck where the mark started. As soon as his lips touched each section of raised skin, the burning stopped and Dipper let out moans of relief as he began leaning back onto Bill's fingers. As soon as he started that, the fingers were gone and Dipper was horrified that he'd done something wrong again.

Until he heard Bill unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. Dipper's anxiety returned, knuckles white from clenching his fists in the sheets so hard. He started to shake again as the slicked head of Bill's cock pressed against him, and he had to bite his lip from crying out because no he didn't want this to stop. He didn't want Bill to slow down, and he didn't want him to suddenly remember what it was he'd come here to do. He just wanted, for one second, to actually believe this was happening and that nothing was wrong and nothing had ever been wrong.

Bill's hands moved to hold Dipper's hips in place as he pushed in slowly, Dipper at first biting his lip harder at the invasive stretch before letting out a small gasp of pain. He shuddered around Bill's length, waiting for the inevitable thrusting. It didn't happen immediately, the demon instead choosing to lean over Dipper's back once more and start tracing the marks on Dipper's back with his fingertips. When Dipper heard Bill begin muttering in a language he didn't understand, the parts he touched tingled before growing colder. It felt like ice was being inserted into the raised skin, and Dipper thought he knew what Bill was doing. Just like that, he was ready to break all over again as his eyes grew wet and his fists unclenched. Halfway through the process, the cock buried inside him started to move and Dipper was actually grateful for the distraction from what was being done to his back. Bill pulled out almost completely before his hips snapped back against Dipper's ass, and Dipper cried out at the sensation of being emptied and then filled abruptly once more. This process repeated, Bill's mutterings growing more strained and frenzied as he picked up pace, fucking Dipper into the mattress at such a rate the teen couldn't keep up. He could only gasp, focusing hard on the feeling of Bill's body slamming into his and the fingers tracing away the marks that bound them. As soon as Bill had traced the last of the marks, his hands slid down Dipper's arms to keep his hands in place. Bill's grip was almost painful, but Dipper didn't care. This might be the last time they ever saw each other. This _had_ to be the last time, as Dipper suspected the mark on his back was now long gone.

Bill's gasps and groans against his neck made him equally vocal as the pace grew more erratic, a tightness growing agonizingly obvious in Dipper's middle as liquid leaked from his own tip. Dipper grew louder the tighter the feeling got, and was almost glad to have one of Bill's palms release his hand to clasp over his mouth. He screamed and moaned against those fingers, breathing out the words, “I'm-I'm,” but never actually finishing the sentence before his body splintered and his come sprang from his member. Bill continued thrusting, fucking him through the orgasm before his grip on Dipper tightened and the demon shook above him. Dipper moaned at the release into of him, shuddering at the way the cock spasmed inside.

They collapsed on the bed, Bill's breath in Dipper's ear as soreness replaced the sated feeling that had resulted. Dipper half expected Bill to get up and leave at this point. He'd gotten what he came here for (and perhaps a lot more than he'd originally intended). There was no need for him to stay. But even as Dipper's chest squeezed tight at the thought, the demon wasn't pulling away. He wasn't pulling Dipper closer either, but he wasn't pulling away. He was just lying on him, breath heating Dipper's skin as the dread started to sink in. Dread and uncertainty.

His muscles ached as he slowly regained some of his faculties. He knew the full weight of what all had just transpired that night hadn't quite hit him yet. He liked to think he could remain calm once it finally did, but inside he was already panicking and ready to choke up at any time. He'd essentially just had a one night stand with a demon who used to be his boyfriend, who he still very much cared about.

Who he wanted back.

He closed his eyes and grit his teeth, warning himself against starting that train of thought. It seemed like perfect timing that that was the moment Bill chose to pull out and roll off of him. Dipper sat up, preparing for the demon's departure only to see him settling in with his back against the headboard. He stared blankly at . . . nothing at all, really. The dread and uncertainty grew inside Dipper, and the only thing he could think to do was pull his discarded underwear and jeans back on.

Bill's release spilled down his thighs, and Dipper almost felt uncomfortable thinking about it as he pulled the clothes on. He felt uncomfortable with the demon watching him with just as blank an expression as before. Dipper couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom, though he really wanted to. Moving over to pick up his shirt, he stopped in front of Mabel's standing mirror. Did he dare look? He hadn't dared to touched the back of his neck yet to see if the raised skin was indeed gone. Reaching a shaking hand up, he watched himself make contact with the back of his neck. No. The skin was no longer raised. It was . . . gone. He turned his back to the mirror, looking over his shoulder expecting to see bare skin that would confirm—

Wait.

The dread multiplied, but something else shot through Dipper as well as he raced over to the dresser to grab the hand mirror. Using it as he'd done a little more than a year ago, he stared at his back and saw that the marks were still very much there. The difference? They were now a shimmering gold and not the burn marks he'd grown so used to.

Clutching the hand mirror in both hands, he turned back to Bill. The demon's facial features looked pinched, like he was expecting to be met with an argument. But . . ., “I don't understand.”

Bill looked sullenly down at his hands. “It seems . . . letting you go is not as easy as I'd hoped it would be.” That still didn't clarify anything to Dipper. Bill must have sensed this as he continued, “That's my name on you. It tells everyone that you're my thrall.” 

Dipper squinted. “Thrall?” 

“A human who does the bidding of a demon who either can't or won't leave his realm.” So Mabel hadn't been far off with the slave theory. “For many demons, it evolved to be more of a symbol of . . . ownership is the closest word we have.”

Dipper thought about what Bill was saying, realizing that Mabel had possibly gotten everything right. Again. “Mabel said it was a demon marriage.”

Bill shrugged. “Marriage is a human concept. But . . . the meanings are similar.”

Dipper caught himself turning back toward the mirror, staring at himself. He felt more confused than ever, and the pit that had steadily been growing in his stomach wasn't helping the situation in the slightest. “But,” he looked down at the second mirror in his hands, “I thought you wanted to—”

“I did too.” Something inside Dipper's mind started clicking over what he thought was happening right then. It took monumental strength not to jump to conclusions, to keep a clear head in the face of this possible scenario. “But like I said: letting you go is harder than I expected.” The bed creaked as Bill stood, the demon coming to stand behind Dipper to trace the gold with his fingertips again. “The previous binding was incomplete. This,” he ran his hand up Dipper's spine to come rest at the nape of his neck, “is the proper appearance of a bond.” Dipper shivered as Bill's hand remained on his neck, but he wasn't certain he should be afraid anymore. It dawned on him that the doubt and dread that he was feeling might not be his emotions at all, and that's when his previous conclusions won out and he realized what was going on. His eyes widened and his heart stuttered to a brief stop. “I can still remove it, but I'm leaving that up to you.”

Dipper felt brave enough to turn and look Bill in the eye, his throat threatening to tighten and keep him from speaking. Before it succeeded, he asked, “Why are you doing this?”

Bill shook his head, sighing. Dipper half expected an 'I don't know' or something akin to that statement. Instead he got, “The part of me that developed while I was . . . here,” he clearly was still annoyed by the thought, but nowhere near as angry as he had previously been, “refuses to die. The thoughts and . . . feelings,” Dipper could actually feel Bill's struggle not to spit the word, which was so surreal for him, “are resilient, but they're not mine.” Dipper's heart sank at that, but he could understand. “For some . . . godforsaken reason, I thought I'd give myself some time to understand why you meant as much to him as you continue to.” Dipper didn't miss the referral to the Bill he'd once been as a third person. In a way, that made perfect sense. They were two different people. Which meant Dipper had pretty much just 'gotten married' (and consummated said marriage) to a complete stranger. 

But for all the logic there was in being alarmed in that, he found himself asking, “Should this be a trial run?” Bill looked up, and the dread seemed to lift off Dipper suddenly. “Like . . . take a year to get to know each other? Then decide?”

Bill considered it, then said, “It would be less of getting to know, more of . . . remembering what things were like. These feelings are foreign to me. In time though, I might come to realize them as my own again.” Bill's hand slid up Dipper's neck and into his hair, tangling with the brown locks as Dipper felt a strain of curiosity that he knew was not his own. The hope he felt, however, was most certainly his. “We'll just have to see.”


	13. Chapter 13

Going home became exponentially harder as soon as Bill explained to him that, even in dreams, he could not see Dipper outside of Gravity Falls. While it didn't feel like they'd made much progress in getting Bill to warm up to Dipper (after that first night together they'd agreed to remain chaste until they were absolutely sure about one another), Dipper still felt more hopeful being there and making an effort than he did far away. He could tell that Bill felt much the same, too.

Their first conversations had been tense and awkward. It became clear to Dipper that Bill still harbored a lot of resentment. It also eventually became clear that that resentment wasn't entirely directed at him. It was that knowledge that made him stop being quite so fearful of approaching Bill, whether in the mindscape or somewhere private in the shack. During the month of August, it also dawned on Dipper that Bill no longer wished to hurt him. Physically, at least. With the return of the snark-filled demon came some relentless bickering over things that didn't make sense to Dipper (but apparently made perfect sense to Bill), which with the combined strength of their bond became a type of emotional combat. That was better than the silence that had threatened to fall between them at first, though.

Dipper had managed to keep things between them a secret from the rest of his family for a while. When they were closing in on the last days of August, however, Mabel finally went back to looking into their personal collection of paranormal books. “I'm gonna find an answer, I swear,” she'd declared, mumbling on about how she should have thought to sit down and do this sooner instead of waiting until crunch time. He knew she felt guilty for getting caught up in friends rather than helping her brother.

Flustering, he hoped for a good reaction when he decided to tell her he didn't really need help anymore. Using their now strengthened bond, Dipper shared the feeling of uncertainty with Bill. Whether Bill was watching or not, he didn't know. He did know he had the demon's approval when he received a wave of reassurance in return. The method of communication wasn't as effective or convenient as reading minds, but it worked. So Dipper stated, “You can stop researching now, Mabel.” She looked up, confused. “Everything's fine.”

Her look of confusion turned to one of suspicion as she dropped the book she was holding on the ground and started marching over to him. “What do you mean everything's fine?” she asked and, without his permission, jerked the back of his shirt and vest down enough to constrict his breathing just the slightest bit. She gasped, her tone turning scolding, “Dipper Pines, _what is this_?”

He chuckled nervously before stammering, “Um, a . . . promise . . . mark? As opposed to a promise ring?” There would come a day when his voice finally stopped cracking when he got this anxious. Today was not that day.

His head whirled as she spun him around and clapped both hands on either side of his face, her eyes wild. “He tried to kill you!” she fired off rapidly.

“Yes,” he said, though her hands were squeezing his cheeks and it made his words come out strangely.

“And now you're married to him? Like married married?”

“Kinda.”

“What do you mean 'kinda?'”

He pulled her hands off his face. “We agreed to see each other for a year. Then we'll see what happens.”

There was a long pause as she searched her brother's face, and he could tell she was trying to draw a conclusion of her own. Then she held up her hands and said, “Last question.” He nodded. “Should I be doing a jig of grave danger, or throwing a party for you?” Dipper shrugged, mouth opening and closing because he didn't really think either fit the situation really. She then grabbed his shoulders and said, “Bit of both. Dancy Pants Revolution at the arcade later. Pacifica will be there judging.” He didn't argue with her on that. As a final addendum, she stated, “And tell him to come see me too! You're not the only one who missed Bill, and now I _really_ need to give that sucker a piece of my mind.”

Dipper wasn't sure how to take that until he felt some mirth on Bill's end of the connection. The demon was definitely watching, then. The reassurance that with the current bond in place Dipper could be anywhere in the world and the connection would be just as strong was actually the only reason he wasn't grabbing his head and screaming by the time he and Mabel were packed up to leave Gravity Falls.

:)

“What was it like, teaching me how to,” he used air quotes, “'be human.'”

Dipper squinted at the question. After months of only sharing feelings over their connection, Bill could understand why the question would confuse Pine tree. That didn't mean he was going to relent. “You were there. You know what it was like.”

“I do know _his_ side of things. But I don't know yours.” Dipper hesitated at first, then Bill declared, “Unless you want me to give you a head that's always screaming, I suggest you fess up.”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Hang on, let me think.”

Bill had had a lot of time to think about the decision he'd made while Pine tree was away. He was still on some levels angry with himself that he hadn't been able to go through with severing the bond. However, the other Bill had reacted so intensely to what he'd done to Pine tree that he simply . . . couldn't. Then the strangest thing had happened when Bill had instead renewed the bond with Dipper. He hadn't known what to call it at first, but throughout August he was able to confirm that the other Bill, while he could still very clearly discern what had been his feelings versus Bill's current feelings, was almost gone. It was like he'd reached a permanent sense of confluence with the opposing personality. 

This, of course, complicated things. As he'd stated, he could still distinguish which feelings hadn't always been Bill Cipher's. With this new turn of events however, they could more readily assimilate and become his own rather than continuing to be 'othered.' It was specifically to get rid of this 'other' feeling he started asking these questions. Also, it was to see how it felt looking back on the other Bill's memories as though they were his own. From that point on, he became invested in figuring these feelings out with the human's help. With a better understanding of them, he could make a decision on whether or not to continue as they were.

The more he listened to Dipper describing how Bill hadn't known how to drink soda properly, or how he'd never figured out some people's needs for personal space, the less strange the memories seemed. In a way, hearing about them from someone else made them . . . real? That wasn't a very good word. Valid? Maybe. Ultimately, the memories were confirmed to have actually happened and that made them lose their almost daydream quality in his mind.

“What was your first thought? When you realized it was me?” Bill asked. These conversations often started with the two of them sitting across from one another, whether in the woods, or the shack, or anywhere else they could reach in the mindscape. They preferred talking in the mindscape; less chance for interruption.

Dipper sighed. “Holy shit, I'm dead.” That made Bill crack a smile. Then Dipper added more seriously, “You were really freaking out that night. I was actually more scared for you than of you, so that's not really true.” A hint of sadness came off of Pine tree, layering itself over Bill's emotions like a thin film. “I couldn't bring myself to tell you, though. You called yourself a freak, and all I wanted to do was make you see that wasn't the case.”

Bill snorted, and Dipper gave him a withered look. “Pine tree, I can assure you, I realize I'm a freak by _your_ standards.”

“Well, you didn't then.” Dipper folded his arms over his chest, his obstinacy making Bill chuckle more. Then Pine tree started musing aloud, “I wanted to tell you so many times.”

Without fully grasping what he was saying until it was said, Bill commented, “And then he told you not to.”

Dipper paused, his surprise eminent. Then he nodded. “Because you didn't want to remember trying to hurt me.” Then he asked, “What were you doing with the Society of the Blind Eye anyway?”

Bill rubbed the area just beneath his nose, wondering if he should share that with Dipper. Then he figured that if things worked out, the young man would eventually become part of his plans. He may as well know, since it wasn't that big a detail. “Remember the figure who led you to the room full of eyes, inevitably leading you to find the society?” Dipper nodded. “Yeah, that was me. I fully intended to have your memories of the summer wiped that day.”

The level of offended Pine tree reached was almost funny. “Why?” he burst out.

“Because you were a little shitpot who kept getting too close to my big ideas, that's why!”

Dipper face palmed. “I walked into that one.”

“Indeed you did.”

There came a time where he started feeling desires he hadn't previously felt before. One of these desires was to see Pine tree smile. The want puzzled him at first, but soon he indulged. The feat was easier than he imagined. Taking some of Shooting star's advice (after her initial threats to banish him if he hurt her brother, she'd become surprisingly helpful), he managed to pull from his personal collection of books and scrolls something he thought Dipper might find interesting. When he floated over and dropped the dusty item onto the teen's lap, Pine tree looked up at him confused. “What did you just give me?”

“A scroll.”

“I can see that. Is it important?”

“Only one of the surviving documents from the Library of Alexandria.”

And just like that, Pine tree lit up. Eyes wide and hands clearly wanting to touch, he all but cried out, “Oh my God! Shouldn't I be wearing gloves? This is really old! There's gotta be a way to handle—”

Bill snapped his fingers and Dipper's hands were covered. Carefully looking over what Bill had just handed him, the demon couldn't help but smirk at how elated his thrall was . . . .

The thought shocked him. He hadn't used that term in reference to Pine tree as of yet, not even in his own head. 

Feeling his shock, Dipper looked up at him. Before he could ask, he said, “Please. Keep looking.”

Pine tree resumed, sighing contentedly. “I'd give anything to read this.”

He felt his own eyes turn blue as a grin spread across his face. “Anything?”

And then Dipper was rolling his eyes at him again. “You technically already own me. I think that includes my soul too.”

Reclining in the air, Bill snickered, “Yes. Yes it does.” His eyes lost the blue glow. “But I can still teach you for a price.”

“I'm not selling you my sister's soul, if that's what you're going after.” It was meant to sound exasperated, but Bill could feel the playfulness in Pine tree.

“I'll name my price later. For now, just know what I have in my archive before deciding to engage in that deal with me.”

Dipper's smile was amazing, and it was something he couldn't get enough of. Unfortunately, that meant he started to become suspicious of everyone he directed that smile at. Whenever Dipper hung out with Red, he felt himself recalling how the young man had felt a stronger form of affection towards he at one point. They were friends, and they'd shown no real interest in each other outside of friendship, but there were times Bill wanted to strangle her just for looking at Dipper. These moments of jealousy were far more indicative of how he was starting to grow attached to the human all over again. Pine tree had intrigued him before the society entered the picture, but not quite to this extent.

Seeing many of Dipper's interactions with others started to fuel a growing concern of Bill's. Well, not of Bill's. The other Bill. The other Bill who technically no longer existed. Bill would use him as a crutch as long as he could afford to. No matter what, there was a concern that Pine tree might not choose to stay. What then? How would Bill deal with the feelings then?

It was during a conversation with Dipper this thought really started to bug him. When he felt Pine tree's fear in response to his frustration, Bill quickly forced himself to relax. It still took a moment for Dipper to lose the stiffness in his shoulders and the wideness to his eyes. Bill tried deflecting his fear with the question, “Was there ever a point where he scared you? Before . . . this, I mean.” That wasn't a good deflection. But it still was a good thing to keep in mind if Pine tree could answer.

Dipper looked down, pausing to think about it. His hands stopped sweating for the time being, and he answered, “You never really . . . scared me, per se. Worried, yeah.” Fear turned into a deep sense of sorrow which mixed with something Bill assumed was what humans referred to as heartbreak. “There was one time, but I'm not sure you'd say that counts as you.”

“What's that?”

He hesitated. “When Gideon broke your neck.” Dipper rubbed his hands together, and Bill just knew he was reliving that moment vividly in his mind. “I thought . . . for a moment I thought,” he bit his lip, “that you wouldn't wake up.”

Pine tree said nothing else and the sorrow ensued. Bill would have told him that it was silly of him, thinking that a demon wouldn't survive something like that. Then again, the other Bill sort of hadn't survived that. The persistence of the sorrow registered with Bill as Dipper's fear being realized. The Bill he'd wanted really hadn't woken up after that attack.

He stopped asking questions after that.

:)

They went a long while without fighting. Things had been going so well, but then Dipper started to feel a tenseness in Bill as their year started drawing to a close. Dipper had already made his decision, but he was waiting for Bill's to come to light. The closer they got to the actual date where they would have to make a decision, however, the more Dipper started to doubt that Bill would choose him. While he felt everything the demon felt, he wondered if he was . . . interesting enough for him. It had been a hard year, bickering at the beginning and conversations in between. They'd spent time together, but they'd also never touched or showed whatever level of affection was acceptable to the demon Dipper had thought they would if Bill decided to stick with him.

It was a little after the strange questions about their past relationship stopped that Dipper caught Bill doing something in the mindscape that had shocked him. He really shouldn't have been quite as shocked as he was considering who this was, but it still bothered him to see it firsthand. Significantly, it bothered him to see Bill doing that to his human body.

There had been such and influx of emotions that day that Dipper didn't know what was going on. This had only happened once or twice before while they'd been properly bonded, and he'd thought nothing of it. Then it happened when he was drifting through the mindscape and Bill was nowhere to be seen. When he'd found the demon, Bill had been twisting his hand and forcefully breaking his wrist. “Bill no!” was his first declaration.

Bill looked up, squinting at him. A moment ago he'd been so full of a mixture of overwhelming feelings that to see him stare blankly at him now . . . Dipper was both confused and slightly horrified at the angle Bill's hand was currently at. When he heard the bone crack after another twist, Dipper all but shouted and ran to grab Bill's other hand to make him stop. “Yeesh, kid! It'll heal!”

“I don't care! Stop hurting yourself!” He felt sick staring at the wrist, and became even sicker when there was another crack and a pop as Bill healed what damage he'd done instantaneously.

“It doesn't hurt all that much.”

“Yeah, I'll remember that if I break my wrist on purpose. Maybe I'll do that next time, see what you think of that,” Dipper replied snidely.

“You'd better not!” The demon growled. Then a mystified sensation came over Dipper in place of the barrage of emotions that had been there before. Looking up at Bill, he saw the demon's gaze locked on where Dipper was now holding his hands. He hadn't realized he'd continued to hold them even after the breaking and healing, but he had. He soon realized that Bill wasn't holding them back, that he was basically just gripping limp fingers and palms. Reluctantly, he let go of the first real physical contact they'd had in a year. The mystification lingered momentarily, then dissipated. Dipper almost wanted to grab for his hands again, but was positive that wasn't a good idea. 

Going back to the subject at hand, he asked, “Why were you breaking your wrist?” Bill rolled his eyes, and Dipper knew he wasn't going to get a straight answer out of him. So he dropped the subject and just went back to wishing he'd at least tried to continue holding Bill's hands. It almost felt like the demon didn't want anything to do with him after that. He felt confused. Bill felt confused at times, but mostly his emotions started to become a little more blurred to Dipper. Dipper's chest constricted each time he thought about it and the impending loss threatened to engulf him. The closer they got to the end of the term, the less Dipper felt. So when they came to blows over something stupid a few days later, Dipper couldn't help but feel it had come out of nowhere. Well, Dipper claimed that it was something stupid. Bill did not. “She wasn't hitting on me. Even if she was, I'm clearly not interested.”

“You looked pretty interested.”

Dipper groaned. He could feel Bill's jealousy the second the girl had come up to talk to him at work. As soon as the shop was empty of people (including Grunkle Stan, who had yet to learn about Dipper's and Bill's arrangement), the demon popped into reality to lay into him. “I was doing my job. I have to be nice to customers, you know.”

“That was too nice.”

“That was barely ni—you know what? No!” Dipper pointed at the demon leaning over the counter at him. “I don't tell you how to do your job. You don't tell me how to do my job. It's not like she gave me her number or anything ridic—”

Bill snapped and the merchant's copy of the girl's receipt floated up off the needle sticking up from the counter. Dipper glared at it and, much to his dismay, the girl had clearly written her phone number. Bill's gaze turned black as a wave of anger reached Dipper. “You were saying?”

Dipper rubbed his face. He knew Bill had a jealous streak. Bill had had a jealous streak before, so it only followed that he'd have one now. But he couldn't say he was happy or even accepting of it. Seeing that obsidian stare again should have frightened him, and for a moment he felt his hands start to shake. Then, intrinsically, he knew Bill wasn't about to lay a hand on him over this. Or anything. Whether it was the connection they shared or just instinct, Dipper managed to keep someone calm and stand his ground. “Look,” he began, “people are going to hit on me. It happens. I turn them down every time.” Then he gestured at Bill, “If you were back here all the time, people would be hitting on you every day. So can we not freak out about it?”

Bill's belligerence hit him before the statement did, “I'll freak out if I want to! We're still on trial here—”

“Which is exactly why you shouldn't be worried.”

“Au contraire, I have more reason to be concerned now than if we _weren't_ on trial!”

“Bill, don't you think you'd feel if I were interested in someone else?"

“Well you—!”

“I have your _name_ on my _back_! I think we can establish from there who I'm going to choose out of the situation!”

“Are you sure about that?!”

Dipper opened his mouth to answer when a bellowing, gruff voice shouted, “If I just heard what I think I just heard,” Bill popped out of existence almost immediately, “ _I better not have heard it_!” And just like that, Dipper had been left to deal with the reaming of a lifetime from Grunkle Stan.

:)

“I think the two of you are gonna be fine.”

“Do you now?”

“He adores you. You can't tell?”

No. No Bill couldn't. Not always. But on some level it helped to hear Shooting star's reassurance. On others . . . Bill had to figure it out himself. Bill fumed for a bit, drifting around the shack quietly with seeking Dipper out. He stared at his hands absently, recalling the touch. By no means was it the first time he and Pine tree had touched (he almost scoffed at himself thinking that), but it was the first time they'd touched in that manner since Bill's return. Feeling Pine tree's concern for him had been surreal, and he wondered if he should have told him that the reason he'd broken his wrist was because he'd grown so overwhelmed at the idea of not having Dipper around that for the first time in a long time, he simply couldn't not break something.

He doubted it would have diffused the situation that followed. He'd seen that girl and the way she'd flaunted at Dipper. He'd hated it. He'd hated every second of it, and seeing Dipper smile back at her . . . .

He needed to keep his head clear. But the clearer his head, the fewer divides between himself and the other Bill. He should be rejoicing at the fewer divides, as that meant he was becoming more and more certain of himself. Instead, he was stuck staving off the anxiousness he felt over something that Dipper had said. Something that could determine what the future held for them.

He grimaced. This human had both humiliated and decimated him and all he could think about was how he wanted to touch him again. He remembered briefly how much he should loathe him. Look at him now. Look at Bill Cipher, being of pure energy with no weaknesses.

Only now, he did have a weakness.

:)

It was days before he heard from Bill again, and Dipper felt horrible. Bill had long since cooled off from the fight, he knew that much. But the demon remained strangely blank to him and he worried what that could mean so close to the last day. Lying in bed, he'd thought things had been going well but then that had happened. Had he known jealousy would be the thing to destroy what he'd (they'd) been working towards, he wondered if he would have fought Bill on the matter. And that last question . . . did Bill not think he was going to choose to stay? He'd said this would be Dipper's choice, but Dipper couldn't help but feel that this hinged on Bill's feelings as much as it hinged on his. He feared Bill's choice more than anything at the moment. He hadn't realized how much hope he'd placed on this arrangement until he stood on the brink—

He stopped thinking about it as soon as he was tugged into the grayscale of the mindscape. Sitting up in bed, he didn't see Bill in the room at first. Then the demon appeared at his side and, for a moment, didn't say anything. He just watched Dipper, and Dipper was reminded of that blank stare the night Bill had come back. This time though, it wasn't accompanied by dread. It was just . . . vacuous. Dipper's heart sank, and he felt like he was staring at defeat. 

Looking away, he elected to address something he'd been meaning to, but hadn't felt comfortable with yet. “Is it okay if I ask you one thing?”

Bill said nothing at first. Then he said, “Only if I get to ask you something in return.”

Dipper nodded, swallowing hard before taking his chance. “Why didn't you kill me that night in the alley?”

“He wouldn't let me.” Dipper knew who he meant. He'd long accepted that Bill would always refer to that side of him in third person. And that was exactly the answer Dipper had suspected. He'd just needed to hear it. There was a long pause before Bill asked, “Did you mean what you said?”

Dipper's brow furrowed. “What I—?”

“About who you would choose out of the situation.” Dipper searched Bill's gaze, but came up with about as much information as he had before. Going with honesty, he nodded. Bill was the one to look down this time, and for the first time since the fight Dipper felt something on his end: apprehension. Somehow that registered as them having tried for a year, but ultimately failing. Dipper turned away, wanting desperately to wake up and avoid the actual rejection that was about to ensue. His heart felt like it was about to shatter over losing Bill not once, but twice now. At least this time he wasn't getting strangled. Just as he was sure he was going to hear the words he feared hearing anyway, Bill said softly, “I think I get it now.”

He blinked, still not looking up. “Get what now?”

“Why I loved you.” Everything inside him stopped functioning. 'I.' He'd said 'I.' Looking up, Dipper's eyes went wide as he stared up at the demon. And dear Lord, the hope he felt . . . it wasn't just his. Bill offered his hand to him cautiously. “Mine?” he asked.

Dipper didn't hesitate. He didn't even ask or want to know what had drawn Bill to that conclusion. “Yours,” he said, taking the demon's hand. Bill didn't move at first, but Dipper could feel the bafflement in the demon. One moment baffled, the next . . . Dipper never would have fathomed the amount of happiness that flooded him could belong to just him. It simply couldn't be just him. His point was further evidenced as Bill slid off the dresser and onto his bed, running his palm from Dipper's hand up his arm. Bill moved to straddle Dipper's lap and Dipper's heart felt like it was about to explode when the demon's hand settled on the back of his neck, the other hand tilting his chin up so his lips could brush Dipper's. Electricity shot across Dipper's skin and he quickly wrapped his arms around Bill's waist to pull him closer. When Bill pulled back, nose brushing Dipper's affectionately, Dipper growled, “Don't do this every time someone flirts with me, okay?”

The demon grinned before pecking him on the lips once more. In the aftermath, Dipper could feel he'd been nervous about this. Returning the peck on the lips with one of his own, Dipper could feel the demon was reassured. It wouldn't have been right for Bill to answer with anything other than, “I'll consider it.” Dipper chose to combat that later. For now he held the demon close, unwilling to let go until it sank in that Bill was staying with him. He was staying with Bill.

Mabel's voice in the back of his head shouted 'demon married.'

He couldn't stop himself from laughing, and he didn't think Bill minded from the way he grinned between peppering his face with kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is cheesy. I'm so sorry.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd post at 2AM, but I can't frickin' wait.

“This is the last time you're unpacking, right?”

Dipper turned and glanced up at the demon who had appeared behind him, dropping what it was he was holding. He and Mabel had just graduated and this was their last summer they'd go to Gravity Falls together.

That wasn't wholly true, really. It was the summer before Mabel would leave and, for the first time, Dipper wouldn't be going with her. “Afraid so.” He held up his hands. “How ready to be stuck with me are you?”

Bill's arms circled Dipper's waist possessively, lips quickly latching onto his neck. Dipper closed his eyes, letting a moan escape his mouth. After whispering, “So ready,” against the young man's skin, he pulled back to kiss Dipper on the lips. Dipper's head still got a little fuzzy every time Bill kissed him, and he was more than a little okay with that. Resting his forehead against Dipper's, he said, “I have something for you.”

Dipper's eyes narrowed. “Oh?” The last time the demon had said that, he'd wound up with a pile of deer teeth. The joke wound up being on both of them, as Mabel had taken one of the cleaner teeth and attached it to a gold chain. Dipper hadn't taken it off, and was wearing it now as a matter of fact. Stepping back, Bill held out his hand for Dipper to take. Looking up at the demon suspiciously, he tentatively placed his right hand in the other's. Bill pulled something from his pocket then (a triangle? Jewelry? What?) and, keeping Dipper's palm down, wrapped and clasped something around his wrist before similarly attaching a smaller piece to his middle finger. “A slave bracelet? Really?” Dipper said with a smirk and a chuckle.

Bill's eyes remained blue. “Almost.” Then he covered Dipper's adorned hand with both of his and there was a cold, tingling sensation that was familiar but not wholly unpleasant. When Bill pulled his hands away, Dipper looked down to see that the jewelry had been turned into a tattoo, its gold not unlike the mark on his back. Between the gold rings on his wrist and finger was a triangle with an eye that made Dipper smile despite himself. He should be annoyed that Bill had marked him in such an obvious place, but he honestly couldn't muster it. Bill reached up to once again cradle Dipper's hand and, placing a thumb over the eye, he explained, “Rub this part counterclockwise, and say 'triangulum entangulum.' That will take you to the mindscape without having to go to sleep or wait for me.”

Dipper's eyes went wide. “Are you serious?” Bill nodded. Dipper sputtered for a moment, unsure if what he was hearing was real or possible. When he felt that Bill was pleased with Dipper's reaction however, he knew that Bill was speaking truth. “Thank you.”

“This way, if you do anything foolish,” which Dipper probably would, Bill clearly didn't say aloud, “you'll have a way to find me.”

“If you don't find me first, that is.”

Bill's smile widened. Then his eyes turned blue again and Dipper felt the demon swelling with mischief. “Now then,” he began, “what do humans do to mark someone as theirs?”

Dipper's eyes narrowed. “What?”

“One gives the other a ring, right?”

Dipper was moderately concerned. “What are you planning?”

“Oh,” Bill released Dipper's right hand, moving to pick up and hold the left, “nothing _too_ obscene.”

“I'm legitimately afraid right now.”

“Are you? I can't tell.”

“Ha ha!” Dipper rolled his eyes. “Don't you think you've given me enough?” 

He wouldn't put it past Bill to put something gawky and racy on his ring finger just to show the world Dipper was unavailable. He went to pull his hand from the demon's, but Bill's grip only tightened. “I just want people to know you're taken. That's all. Is that too much to ask?”

“I have your name on my back.”

“One, only demons can read that. Two,” he used his free hand to tilt Dipper's head up to look at him, face growing serious, “I'd better be the only person seeing that much of your skin.”

Dipper glared. “You expect me to swim with a shirt on now?”

Bill rolled his eyes before removing his hand to return to what he was doing with Dipper's left. “Don't bother me with facts.”

“Also,” Dipper tried pulling away again and also failed, “I'm wearing one of your gifts already.”

“No one's going to look at a deer tooth and think, 'hey, that must belong to Cipher,' Pine tree. It's this finger, right?” he asked as he took a hold of Dipper's ring finger.

Dipper wasn't so sure about the necklace though. He was sure of the tattoo, however. Holding up his right hand, he asked, “This isn't indicative of me being with you? You just gave me unbridled access to your realm.”

“That's essentially a key to my house. Not a sign that we're,” he used air quotes with one hand, “'married.'” Then he covered Dipper's hand with both of his and Dipper was suddenly very worried as his ring finger started to tingle.

“You really don't have to—”

“Done.” Dipper was almost scared to look until . . . .

He sighed. Okay. That wasn't so bad for a tattooed wedding ring. “Your summoning wheel.”

“I can change it to a baby head if you—”

“No!” Bill laughed fiendishly at Dipper's reaction. Then Dipper looked over what Bill had done to his hands and, flexing them, he said, “I actually like this.” Then logic arrived and he said, “I'll never be able to work anywhere but here and a tattoo parlor, but I like it.” He almost hadn't been allowed to return to the shack once Grunkle Stan had found out about Bill. Things were still tense between them, but not nearly as awkward as it had been the previous year. At this point, the Pines family members of Gravity Falls were stalling on explaining to the twins' parents that they'd sort of missed their son's 'wedding.'

“Good,” Bill said before placing his hands on Dipper's waist and pulling him close. Dipper's thoughts scattered as Bill seized his lips for a scorching kiss. He moaned as his fingers threaded through Bill's hair. The demon's hands slid to Dipper's front and started undoing the buttons of his flannel. “Now let's see what else I can add to this collection.”

Dipper snorted. “Thought you didn't want anyone seeing that much of my skin.”

Bill hummed. “I don't, but my gold looks good on you.”

Dipper didn't argue with that. Letting the demon pull his clothing off and taste his skin, he recalled for a moment the boy who'd lie in bed beside him all those years ago. He remembered how he couldn't sleep, how the moon was sometimes to bright or the room too dark. Dipper realized now that while the demon he was with was not exactly like that boy, he still managed to have the best of both the Bill who remembered nothing and the Bill who knew everything.

The last six years had been one hell of a ride. However, it seemed that Gravity Falls (a particular resident at least) would be enjoying him for much longer than he could have imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this image of Dipper eventually working at a tattoo parlor popped in my head because of this scene. I'm just imagining a bunch of people coming up and saying, "Oh my God, I love that ink man. Where'd you get that done?" because no one does gold quite like Bill I'm sure. Dipper would have to make something up on the fly, like he went to another country or his husband is the only one he knows who can do it. The latter might cause Bill to pop up from out of nowhere and be like, "I'll give you some for a price," and Dipper just screams, "THIS IS MY HUSBAND, PLEASE IGNORE!"
> 
> Don't you love being awake at 1 or 2AM thinking about these things? I certainly do. Happy Valentine's Day guys! Here's my totally unintentional gift to you: the end of this story.


End file.
